Trace figure eights along my body
and stop apologizing.
Lets find out
if the damage
can be undone.

you could have me.
just ask.

You’re dreaming again, and it’s love at first sight. You’re walking home and it’s love at first sight and if you could only taste him your heart would explode. You’d burn from the inside out. Every nerve writhing in explicit ecstasy, a thousand tiny deaths over and over, and as your feel your lungs expand you are attuned to this earth, you feel every atom brush against your throat. He’s like a poison, he’s like pinot noir, he’s like orange crush and it burns when he takes hold of you. You’re walking home and it’s snowing but your eyelashes are blocking it out so all you see is him. You’re walking home and it’s cold but you’re burning from the inside out. You’re walking home and your legs can’t hold you anymore. You’re walking home and you start to fall, but not in love, and no one's there to catch you, no one even sees you stumble over your own words and fall without moving your feet or walk without hitting the ground. Just shadows in the snow banks, witnesses to your frailty.
· me,

He’s dreaming again. His tongue is running off with him, and he’s pulling at his sleeves like an awkward schoolboy. When I see him I know him. Better than I have in years. His voice is rougher than the palms of his hands or the blue of his eyes. His lips are still moving but they’re out of sync with his words. I’m on his couch again and I don’t know how I got there, there’s a bloom in my body and every time he looks at me they contract and pulse like an out of time heartbeat. I’m in his basement and it’s dark, there’s a window behind me and if we were to sneak out of it there would be gin in our hands. It would taste like pine. I’m on his hammock and looking at the stars like he promised, like I wrote. On the bench in the park his arms fold me like a paper crane, or maybe a fortune teller, his sandpaper voice whispering me a billet-doux in six different languages, three made up, one in sign. He’s dreaming and it’s about me and I know it, but I can’t say it, so I just dream back. Over and over. My hands folding him like paper, ebbing like an ocean.

Have you ever been on a carousel and
forgotten about the spinning?
Same scenery over and over,
but your brain hardly even notices.
You just keep going.
Past the same faces and same places
and all the same feeling.
But you just keep going because it hasn't
stopped yet, you haven't gotten your
twenty-five cents worth of repetition.
And I've been chained to this carousel for so long,
the shackles are starting to look like jewelry.
When the sun sets and when they turn the lights on it is
no longer blinding. I'm used to the beauty.
All I want is to get off. I want to travel deep
into the woods. I see the trees I pass by over and over.
All I want is to get lost in them. I want something new.
But I know,
I know,
I know,
That they may be trees.
But it will be tree after tree after tree.
And I'll just find myself chained to another
carousel.

Every other guy before you,
somewhere between midnight conversations, interrupted by coffee stains and the dreams that woke me up to talk to them, I fell in love.  One listened to history podcasts to fall asleep. One made me skip class so he could drive me two hours out of town and show me the home he grew up in. Another, used to draw my hands on pamphlets hidden under the pews at the back of the church. And each of these things is the seed, sun, and soil for my affection which maybe you understand, because someone does something you respect, admire, and want and all of a sudden, bam, they're so much more than they were before. And with every single person, I realized. I realized I was in love with the presence of their words and the feel of their existence.
But I did not love them.
I met you, and you wrote love stories on my flesh with your finger tips, and I saw your eyes groan with exhaustion in the morning, and you taught me how to be a bigger, better, stronger person. Every day with you feels like a Sunday morning with crisp bedsheets and lazy smiles, and you took me until my life wasn't mine anymore. You took me as a hostage, you got inside my head, piece by piece you disassembled my suit of armor and showed me how to love a person, rawly and deeply and I could never be the same after that. I loved who you are. The way your hands held my hipbones and your lips stole the end of my sentences, when we would drive home from the beach in your car the sunset would be blossoming with love. I don't know what to tell you, other than a giraffes heart ways 22 pounds, and when flies fall in love their entire brain is rewired to only knowing loving each other, and when one dies their memory goes blank. And my loving you was never about what I could get out of it, or what you could make me, but how full I could make you. And if I can't love you as a lover, I will love you as a friend, or however the song goes. But I know what I need in this world, and it's hidden behind your knees and in your hair and sometimes sits between your shoulder blades. And I know sometimes you can't decide if you want to *******, break down and cry, or eat a whole pizza but the entire spectrum of who you are reflects all the pages I could fill with the reasons why you are a spectacular person, Adrian, and you are the one, sealed with a kiss, you are my sun and stars, my stormy night, and you are stained onto my skin like the scar on my knee.

And with my ****** and romantic "experience," that you think I have more of, I promise you no one could fill the space you left. And even though what I gave you and how I loved you might not be what you want, I can also promise you no one will feel like that about you ever again. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, you decide. And even if I don't have you, I will have every single memory. I will have the drive-in, I will have the row, I will have lying in the grass outside my house, holding you. And I will never forget what you made me.

oh how ignorant i must've been.
to think the best things in the world were
hot coffee and cigarettes,
drinking on the beach while fireworks went off.
the overwhelming sense of reality I'd get when
the wind would pull me out to sea
and waves would kiss my thighs.
these were the best things,
not but a week ago.
and now i know with nothing but
absolut conviction,
the best thing
in this world
is waking up to kisses
on my shoulders
from a man
i hardly know
yet i know is one of
us.

goodmorning, beautiful.

i just thought you should know
i love you
every facet of you
i love you when you're stressed
and it feels like you're not even present
and i love you
when you're so vibrant
i have to hide my eyes
and i bet you're wondering how
i can even call this
poetry
but you don't see
the way you look
at me
and that
my darling
is the song i've been singing
since the moment we met.

been thinking about you, piano man.
I would stay up to talk to you,
four timezones away,
so late that the dusk would
kiss
the dawns light.
I'm trying to let it go though,
all those "what would of been" thoughts.
I had my closure.
But even though it's been
three years,
I still remember the ocean breeze
on your lips.
Awkward and innocent.
Like you used to be.
Now you're all walls
and no doors.
And although I know there's no,
"maybe one day,"
you'll live in the capillaries in my body,
in the scars I showed you first.

Lets start with L,
who I've been through before.
Oh young love and how sweet it was.
I was watching Buffy when he first dropped
that L bomb.
Big word for such little kids.
But now he's a man,
constantly hiding behind his ego or insecurities,
And I'm not sure which to believe.

Musing on other things than M,
awkward and skinny,
whose voice I've never heard
and face I've only gotten in pictures.
But he's kind.
Which has to count for something,
even if he's doomed to the
friend zone. (DUNDUNDUNNNN)

Back up to B,
and, oh, all the characters I wrote for him
about him
a deceleration of suppression.
He did love me, I think,
but not the right way,
and he still doesn't.
She can have him.
And I hope he doesn't lose a good thing again.

Jump to J,
who only wants me for the V, T and A
(if you know what I mean).
Which is great, I guess,
but I need love
in my heart
and in my bones.
I only have enough for one person,
who isn't me.

And then A.
And god I love him.
And god I miss him.
He'll win every time.

you've got ocean eyes,
baby.
so deep i could drown.

babe lets crack open
a bottle of wine.
get so drunk i trace my body with my hands
and pretend they're yours.
i feel like dying tonight.
the stars are screaming
your name
shooting through me
like bullets.

So this is how the song goes?
Take the long way,
so I can see his light's off
so it hurts a little more.
Does this help, baby?
Does this help or does it just make it hurt more?
Flip a coin,
Every second I'm falling further
underwater
But there's a part of your body
That fills up every time.
It's not hope, okay?
Don't say that,
Don't even let me think it,
cause that part of me is my heart
And I can't hope anymore
This is how the song goes, baby.
This is how the song goes, Hannah
Don't say my name like that
Don't say it like I'm the
face you see in the mirror
If he's the sun
It doesn't matter what he is,
The sun and the stars,
or the same compounds anyone else is made of,
Then just answer me one question, baby,
Tell me if it helps
Nothing ever does.


*You'll bleed
to feed
the demon
in me

dude's drunk
i'm lady law
bearing the balance
my wayward man will
find me feasable
or
unbearably unstandable.

oh yes honey,
i miss your voice.
like hands around my neck.
like a crying
child.

I'm awake at 3am.
Dreaming about you.
Blossoming like a bulb
that has just seen springs
first light.

you trace my freckles
like
constellations
in your nights sky.

Take this feeling from my gut, or give me a gun
Carbonated soda in the pit of your stomach
And candy cane lips I wanna **** on
Excuse me for being crass,
but all I want is your hands on my ***
Your nails are gonna dig a thousand stories into my skin
And I've never felt more alive
Singing the absolut lullaby

when you put your pajamas on
before getting into bed.

When you sat down
beside me
it started to
drizzle.


By the time
we reached
your car,
it was
pouring.

The three things I remember;
The splash of my tongue
against his
after those eyes,
those "may I?"
eyes, the splash
of my tongue
against his
melting me like a
candy cane.
A loose glove,
and a lighter heating
it- the latex
shrinking,
clinging
to my hand.
And the feeling in my
gut.
Similar to both memories,
like
jumping off a bridge,
or
hanging upside down.
Or the sound you make
when you try to ask for help
(or ask permission)
and only breath
comes
out.

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.

So this is how it goes every time,
right? We've got bodies in the backseat.
We've got luggage stacked tenfold
on the roof.
How can you expect me not
to break, when all I've ever
been carrying is still
not
good enough.

4am
bodies intertwined
only gonna get 3 hours
of sleep if we pass out
right now
but the sound of your voice
against my 4am
delirium
is
absolutely
intoxicating.

here's one for you darling.
the splash of your tongue against mine-
the splash of your tongue against mine,
melting me like a sugar cube.
falling asleep in your eyes like water beds.
You said "I think I'm developing
feelings for you."
And all I heard was
"Kiss me again. Kiss me again.
You look so beautiful,
and my body is screaming for
your tender hands
against me."
But all I could say is"oh no,"
oh no,
what have I gotten myself into.
The splash of your tongue against mine.
The splash of your tongue against mine.
Melting me
like a
sugar
cube.

And on the days
He lacks to shave,
I find it right
to compromise,
The only way
I'll feel his scruff,
is rough against
my thighs.

He fell in my arms.
Not in love, but fast asleep.
I fell the former.

And when you're across the room from me,
I will blink and kiss you with my eyelids.
I will brush my hair behind my ears,
and without touching you I will run my hand
across your shoulders, a silent reassurance.
And when you are far away, and cannot see me,
I will dream and you will know it's about you,
you will feel my body mold to yours
thousands of miles away, and you will know,
always,
that this is what friends are for. I will comfort you
with my hands, and when my hands aren't close enough,
I will hold you in my heart, delicately, like broken glass.

Three cheers for
guilt.
One for the
words
that never
come without a
stutter,
maybe "He can
never
know" or
"I'm only using
you" as he
slides off every dress
you've ever worn
and you
lie
through your
teeth.
One for,
finally,
rough hands and maybe
the thought that
Is this what a
man
feels like?
Sandpaper and strength
in all the wrong places.
And one
last
sad
solid
cheer,
that will ring no place
except in my head
where it may
or may not
echo
echo
echo,
for each night
I spend loaded
and want it to
happen again.



*the splash of your tongue against mine.

Show me the reasons I shouldn't stay.
And I'll still be there in the morning.
Promise.

Every facet of you is worthwhile.

i am insatiable.
yes, with passion,
and with ***,
and with you crush of your lips against mine.
like waves on the bluffs.
but i am embarrassed to admit,
what i crave more than anything,
is simply the x, y, and z
of who you are
and who you could be
to me.

There's a pirate,
who's shipwrecked in my gut.
And I'm not sure if I'm the princess
or the ship.
But I'd let him crash against me
any way he wanted.
Cause at the end of the day I'm the wheel,
and his hands against me are
stormy seas.

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.

"at this very moment we're
on a blue and green orb
flying through space at an
unreasonably fast speed
neither of us can comprehend fully
and we call that big orb Earth
and billions of people live on it
just like us
flying through space
and most of them
aren't even aren't even aware of how
miniscule
their lives are
and right now
we are on a tiny island in the middle
of the atlantic ocean
and it's 5am
and most people are probably asleep
and we're flying through space so fast
but I'm in bed with you right now
wide awake
sharing this moment with you
and no one will ever know
and in the grand scheme of things
it's not even important
but this moment
is the moment
I've been waiting for my entire life
and there is no one
I would rather share this
incredible, insignificant
moment with
more than
you."

Yes,
I have been drinking,
and none of that will make me forget
my legs around his waist.
were there hands on my ***?
I can't remember,
his hair's so long,
so soft,
when I pulled it and pushed him
against my body.
Oh, happy new year.
I can feel my eyes glow again
when I think about yours
No smile
No smirk
Just lips, against mine,
missing in intoxication.

Oh, the absolut lullaby.
Singing me to sleep.
You made my lip swell, honey.
I expect a goodnight kiss for that.




*"Tonight was fun and we still had our clothes on, so that's a lot on it's own."

Write when you're drunk, edit when you're sober,
Right?

Here is
Unedited.

"Are we playing
Kings rules,
Or ******* a ****?"

Here is
Friday night.

is that what poetry has become?
your eyes are like clouds
her heart hurts
roses and thorns-
stop punishing me with your incompetence,
with your ignorance,
feel something and give it to me
in more than one language.
if i don't feel every syllable
coursing through my body
in all the wrong ways
(you're a thunder storm, baby,
you're a forest fire under a full moon)
then it isn't worth my spit.
give me something filthy.
have a couple drinks and tell me how
raw you feel then.
peel back each layer
of your broken soul
and show me what you got.
it's not about love,
it's not about lust,
it's about how deep you can dig
when you know you're about to hit rock bottom.
give me something filthy
and write your name all over it.
write my name, too.

My hearts beating too fast and I'm falling even before
I'm leaning in to meet you
Oh, is this how my life ends?
Carbon steel lips against mine,
And the barrel of your tongue in my mouth
I'm too young to die,
Too young to feel so full and honest.
But this will be the way I am found,
every time,
Brains on the wall
And somewhere in the wreckage
a bullet called
lust.

He says he can’t voice his thoughts
But wrote me a lullaby about landing planes
And the first time I heard it my feet were on his dash
And the windows were down.
He says he can’t voice his thoughts
So he steals mine and feels guilty
“I love you too’s” and “I miss you more’s”
“To the moon and back, baby.”
I know he can’t voice his thoughts
My stomach ties when his tongue does
High and dry, just try for me, darling,
Try to tell me everything I need to hear.
He can’t voice his thoughts,
But he always has a bow in his locker
and some nights
I have strings too.

all i could give him
was a tiny band-aid for
a big gunshot wound.

I have to shower soon, and every breath of wind
that brushes against my ***** skin
reminds me of everything
I hope they don't tell you about this morning.


I smell like sweat and *****,
and all I want is a redo.
I want "may I?" eyes.

"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.

for my birthday,
i want death in the worst way.

the way
you love me
echos
in my
hollow
bones

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.

I want you.
I want you to smile when you look at me,
and ask me out for coffee,
I wanted you all night long.
You filled my dreams up with ghosts of your body,
Beautiful and striking and I would cross
thousands of dream lands
Just to find the ghost of you I can
hold.

Gonna lie down.
And hope he lies down
with me.

Artorias of the Abyss,
wish he would bless me with a kiss,
but with his two-handed sword
the man's doing back-flips.

Ciaran's porcelain mask is posing a poll,
she just wants her lovers soul,
I'd consider handing it over,
but I prefer my scythe to take her toll.

he traced my curves with
educated finger tips.
fueled with lost passion.

if i could finally
put your smile
into words
i might just
close my laptop
and let sleep come.