It is one to lose a lover
It is two to lose a friend
It is me who never wanted
to truly see the end
You never see it coming
i suppose that's always said
This poem ***** a lot
but so did you,
Your ex-best friend

Stay away from the blue-eyed boy down the road because God knows blue-eyed boys are trouble. He's poured ice in his chest and painted his thin lips red to convince you they still have life.

Instead, find the boy with dark eyes and coltish legs and feed him flowers blooming from cacti and honey warmed over the stove and watch his features soften under your touch.

And let yours soften too.

Maybe it wasn't you, but it sure wasn't me.
Not then, not with you, not when my blood still ran red.
But when sap and dirt dripped out my ears and my brain drowned in skeletons and sickness
and I looked to you like a puppy drowing in the deep-end and you held your hands near your shoulders like the West was pulling them to her, like she was taking you away from me.
I splashed my way out, and I dressed up my bones, wrapped and bandaged them for some other day when they felt stronger.
I learned you couldn't save me, that it wasn't your job.
That tasks like living weren't right to pawn off to others.
That duties like breathing belonged to the dying.

Let me use you just how I want to. Let me kiss you when you try and tell me no. Let me smoke half your cigarettes because if it's killing you, we'll ****, let it **** me too. Let our ribs grow together like roots under the pavement.

Kiss me me like you want the world to stop. Kiss me for all the lovers who don't anymore. If our lips are watercolor then I want our mouths to bleed across the page.

Love me in May and then into December because winter's are hard but summer's are far harder. The air is swollen and my lungs are weak but your voice is strong and your body is mighty.