I am in orbit.
Pulled in,
yet falling away.
Constantly.

it's 1:36 in the morning
and i have a hunger
in the pit of my stomach
that can only be satisfied
with the knowledge that
you, dear, might be aching
for me too.

oh, I'm gonna put it all in this little box, and
god forbid i don't forget about it.
you know i won't spill it here, in the
broke lines, and curved shapes.
me, being the person i am,
with all my faults and falls, don't want you to see it.
every
word
pause
and every
syllable will hide me.

"I am so unhappy."
I got four words.
Just four.
Four words to let the guilt seep in.
I bailed, I know.
For good intentions, yes.
But I still bailed.
How long did I think I could ******* keep this up.
I'm the moon, you're the ocean.
And I'll carve your name in the sand,
in the dunes,
in the roads we used to drive down.
religiously.

a, a, a, a, a, a, a, a. over and over, ocean ebbing at the curve.

i'll be your beer-soaked, ashed on bar,
i'll be your cloudless night sky
in january, baby.
so cold it burns.
i'll be your pirate ship
and your shores,
your weapon of mass destruction
and all the mountains i could level,
i'll be the pack of cards
we lost
under your bed.
i will be your final resting spot,
your casket and your headstone.
"Here lies someone who was
torn by love
so many times
it's a miracle we could bury his body."
honey i tried so hard to be your
candle in the sun.
light against light.
something so clean about it.
but i just got turned into
the north wind that
caresses your shoulders
on the walk to class.
not even noticeable
anymore.
not even raising goosebumps
on your
spine.

lie face down on the floor.
feel gravity pulling down
every part of your body.
breathe.
tell yourself
"this is real.
this is real.
this is my life."
breathe.

Your mouth
could do
brutal
things
to my
heart
but you’re a
risk
I’m willing to
****
because I have a feeling
your hands
would do
beautiful
things
to my
thighs.