you can deny it
but do I need to rip
my bleeding heart
from my chest
to show you the scars
that are carved in your
handwriting

for every scar
you've made
on my heart

i've pinned an apology note
so that it knows
everything was my fault

all of our memories
are reconstructions
of things
we think to be

maybe that's why
i thought
we'd always be a
we

i'm a candle man
with no dreams or plan
i just want to kiss your lips,
press my heart to your fingertips

you always say just the right thing
to light a fire on my short string
and i burn for you, melting
as you hold me close, smelling

all the yearning, dry on my tongue
and the hopes that we will stay young
so we don't have to have any dreams, or a plan
and i can always be your candle man

sunflowers seeping into her skin like rot
an uncontrollable summer cancer
bones breaking ahead of time
a tombstone blissfully cool

smoking to die
living in the expletive
relishing the waste

for wasting must mean you have