get
this cold
take it inside

feed it
to those
you are traveling

with
through this space.

tell them
love is a glacier

it endures
and is not remembered.

halve
the cold minute.

nurture it
and then set it free.

in
its absence

the warm
will return.

a tiding
a small child

who laughs
at the bitterness

of the
crime you hold.

a song
to be
rehearsed

a
misstep
to be

forgiven.

don't fall in love with the ones who only crave intimacy.
the ones who are there because
they're driven by sweet words and an even sweeter kiss.
and that drive
gets higher,
it gets faster,
as more touch gets involved.
but they only crave intimacy,
while you crave something much more.
don't fall in love with the ones who will touch you
and make you feel like
you're floating,
because soon enough they'll push you to the ground,
leaving you to question everything with nothing but
the bruises and scars on your body
left over from
their touch,
their kisses,
their words.
don't fall in love with the ones who only crave intimacy.
they won't want you how you want them.
trust me,
because I crave intimacy.

I search for you in the late nights
at the bottom of the bottle.
I look for you in the embers striving to burn
at the end of a dying cigarette.
I ache for you in the arms of a stranger,
a man with different proportions,
a deeper voice, a rougher face.

I’m searching for you in all the places
you swore you’d never be
just like you swore you’d never leave.
But the pale hands caressing your satin skin,
pale hands that weren’t mine
burn in my mind and
I wonder how I’ll ever find you in the places
you swore you’d never be
just like you lost me,
when you swore you’d never leave.

I am jealous of your cigarette,
won't you place your lips against mine instead?
Inhale-
Exhale
A dance of rapid breaths.

I'm jealous of your cigarette,
of how delicately you seem to hold it
and yet never let it go until, of course,
it burns your fingers;
but I promise I'll never do such a thing as hurt you.

I am jealous of your cigarette,
of the aftertaste and the time it takes away from you,
of how you confide in the smoke in times of desperation.

I'll be here, your addiction,
you won't need to light me up;
and leave you a better taste.

She was a dancer
And I a writer  
Born of the same day
But different hours
Barely friends
But almost lovers
Destined to be connected
But never together
For I am winter
And she is summer

I'll walk into my home smelling like cancer and tasting like death because I don't want you. I'm selfish. I want you to break up with me. I want you to be so disgusted by my habits that it breaks you down until you realize that I'm not going to wait for you to figure out that I don't need you. I need space and you're not letting me push you away. I need you to push away from me; break me apart so that I'll at least know you aren't incapable of feeling broken. I want you to leave me so I don't have to deal with you being broken because of me. I can't do it anymore. I've broken so many people, but for some reason I can't break you. So, I need you to break me.

For he liked her,
And she he;
But it had to end.
They both were in love
With melancholy.

Most of us write
of how bitter
our first kisses
tasted

Mine
tasted like
a limited edition candy
found in an old candyshop
after three years

Like
exhaled smoke
of  your first
mentholated cigarrete

it tasted
like home
after years of
being lost