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

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.

woke up this morning
to clean snow
falling on my fingers
and my cigarette
and thoughts of you
i wish you could just as simply
brush from my shoulders.

I am a question,
not because of my punctuation,
but because of my need
to be answered.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

I loved him.
And sometimes,
he loved me as well.

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.

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.

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

You left
like a bullet
through the back of
a suicidals skull.
there's no exit
wound.
sometimes i wish
there was.

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."

you could have me.
just ask.

when you put your pajamas on
before getting into bed.

You pointed a finger and it
went right between my ribs,
through my gut,
and cracked my spine on the way out.
I'll tell you something about blame, baby,
if you dish it out, you gotta be able to take it.
If I'm on my way down, you're in the passenger seat.
You'll never be able to cut me out of you,
we're both the cancer the other has,
I've accepted it and learned to live with the sickness.
Your turn.
You wanna point fingers, darling, do you?
Cause my tongue is loaded like a gun,
and I have a couple things to say.
You opened the door, and I'm sorry it slammed your ***
on the way out.
You have no claim on my stakes.
And I think it's time for you to go.
My cancer.
My sleeping sickness.
My static lullaby.