love is
it is;
it's
to wish you
well-off
not to dissolve

while melting
and honey,
I'm melting

why can't I
can't I
can't
I can't
catch this
catch my
gasp, ******
this breath

why can't I have it ?
I've had it
with
astronaut emotion
head in outer space
what goes up
must come down

but I've been

d
o
w
n

drowned & coming up for air
at the last second to explode
the need to inhale
something
you or air

I c a n n o t decide which feels better

When you feel the wall going up between you two,
Slowly at first and reaching 7 stories high,
Know that you have lost.
Know that he has lost interest and is looking elsewhere
for someone else that has smiles like sun rays and moonshine in her eyes.
Know that when you see him look at another girl the way he used to look at you, that you indeed, have lost him.
And you cannot get him back.
When others and even you, question whether they’re in a relationship,
When he stops calling you his princess and starts calling her his queen,
When he talks to her all day long about nothing and only messages you to say, “I hope everything’s okay”,
Know that he no longer cares.
That you had a special place but you lost it,
And the girl that made him feel less lonely, he now spends his nights and days with.

See, the way to see someone’s true colors is to make them wait.
To make them wait months for you to be theirs, even if it’s for your own good, just make them wait.
They will promise to wait at first and then get bored and then leave.
And when they show you their true colors, do not try to repaint them.
Do not try to hang a beautiful picture over their face,
Pack your **** up and move on.
Because you deserve better.
Because the right guy will wait years for the love of his life.
Because he won’t hold someone else’s hand to make the wait easier.
Because if he can’t wait, the gift just wasn’t for him.

mood // The Knowing

-g.e.s.

Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.

I know of a place,
where it only rains ash.
The sun doesn't shine,
it was swallowed en masse.
By an ominous void,
that's now stifled the grass.
I'm loathe to return,
but I'll lead you if asked.

We'll journey on over,
to death's little home.
Where graves fill the fields,
in neat little rows.
Not a songbird in sight,
just cackling crows.
Nor will flowers you see,
where the bone roses grow.

Einstein's Relativity tells us that time slows at fast speeds,
So much so that it stops when travelling at the speed of light.
As you look up at the stars tonight think of this:
The photons that travel across the universe to your retina,
Are created in the depths of a star and destroyed within your eye,
In the same instance.

He told me he likes Bukowski.
That was the first sign.
You see, boys who like Bukowski and me
Don’t get along.
You see, Bukowski and me
Don’t get along.
I’m a Sylvia.
I’m an Anne.
A Maya and a Virginia.
You see, I am well versed
In death and silence.
You see, I have no interest in
Alcohol and misogyny.

He told me he likes The Smiths.
Now The Smiths
In and of themselves are great.
I’ve always been a fan of melancholy,
Of heartbreak.
Now The Smiths
Who have been morphed into this
Pseudo intellectual mirror are not my thing.
You see, boys pin me to a pedestal
For merely knowing who Morrissey is.
You see, I don’t care if
Dying by my side is such a heavenly way to die.
You see, I don’t plan on dying with him.

He told me he drinks his coffee black.
That would explain
Why when he kissed me
I tasted nothing but bitterness.
That should have been a warning.
You see, I need a little sweetness.

He told me he smokes cigarettes.
You see, cigarettes remind me of my father.

He told me I’m not like other girls.
As if other girls are a disease.
As if I am this magical creature.
This manic pixie dream girl with wings.
You see, there is nothing special about me.
I am me. Simple.

I told him he was a sad boy.
A boy who pretends like he’s wrapped in barbed wire
But is really a caged petting zoo animal.
A boy who will smile like he has a secret
But really has nothing to share.
You see, sad boys drink whiskey.
To me, whiskey tastes like listerine without the mint.
You see, he tasted like whiskey.
You see, he reads Bukowski.
You see, he listens to The Smiths.
You see, he drinks his coffee black every morning
And smokes a cigarette on his balcony
While reading the newspaper
And listening to a vinyl record.
You see he doesn’t love me.
He loves the idea of me.
He loves the idea of sad girl.
You see, there’s nothing romantic
About a boy who thinks romance is a Hemingway novel.
You see, I hate Hemingway.
You see, sad boys and me don’t get along.