We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.

i have no sort of remedy in me to relieve this madness i’ve created. my existence contributes nothing to the prosperity of the human condition. my spirit breeds discord and torture to the one i love most and that alone tosses me further into this abyss of self-loathing and deceit. i have nothing but “i’m sorry” to offer. i am utterly useless to this bustling globe

here lies, too, his lover still
doting from the daffodils
shrieking, hot and virile; shrill
caressing flesh she's soon to ****

so goes, whence?, the evening train
as she, longing to love again
lust as deep as sugarcane
howl at me between the rain

enter, now, the corpse of faun
carved from wet, unsightly lawn
lithe and nubile as a swan
murky eyes look further on

at last, rise from the netherworld
'round her fearsome finger curled
soul diffused and newly pearl
kissing the form you call a girl

You're a real comet boy
aren't you
everyone wants to call you a
shooting star
but you know you're just a
falling rock​
glittery and pretty boy
all bright and cheery
we all want to know if you light up
the dark
eyelashes cluttered
with star dust
​do you wear a crown
of broken moonstones?
​cracked and gorgeous
your beauty is your pain
oh,
so sad yet so pretty
comet boy
we all want to heal you
won't you let us heal you?

im sorry i texted you too many times
when i was that sad kid in your literature class
who talked too much and wore that sweater too many days in a row
blue and orange are complimentary, and i painted with them last night but
i wasnt listening to your songs anymore
the ones i put your name on, at least

i smoked a cigarette during third period today to not feel this
gnawing
kind of gaping feeling in my stomach and
tugging at my dimples
your smile was all jagged lines this morning but
i dont know if you could tell or not. i hope whoever she is does
hey
do you feely guilty?
because i sure as hell do