I read him one of my poems
He complemented my mechanics
And although part of me laughed
Wondering how he heard me breathe the commas
Heard my spelling bee winner's letter placement
Still
The notion stuck
Steadfast
Push-pinned in my memory
In the neglected space where kind gestures live
I told him how I appreciated it
I should've told him
Boy no no
You don't understand
My mechanics need fixing
No not my grammar boy
I should've told him to volunteer
Sweet boy
I know hands are easier to work with than words
Touch me with both
Shhhh sweet boy
Fix me with your good nature
Let it wash over me
Wash away my grime
You needn't a good speaking voice
But a good intention
Warming arms
To thaw me
Couldn't hurt
But sweet boy
Too bad
We all grow sick of licorice
And I broke you
Like the mantelpiece momma told me not to play around
I broke you
For a less sweet boy
With a politician tongue
And words soaked in muddy motives
I broke you
Hardened you
Into a less sweet boy
With a polititia- err
Salesman tongue
And words soaked in muddy motives
I left you
Gone with the wind
You were the Rett
In the search for my Ashley
But he broke me
Like the soldiers countenance heading to combat
He left me
Wondering
Where all the sweet boys could have gone

You're the reason I believe in ghosts
I try to convince myself that I'm going mad
when I see your pale face against the morning sunrise
when I see your brown hair
the flowers in it are still as vibrant as before
when I stand stagnant and look at myself in the mirror
seeing nothing about myself you could have loved
feeling my collarbone -- the last place you kissed
I touch it tenderly, as if I could break it
and I try endlessly to search for answers
that I almost get lost in thought
about your pink lips and brown eyes
But I remember your body
like the L-train map
I could never forget
the feel of your thigh
the curve of your spine
I remember the scent of your blood
You thought of your body as a haunted house
and there was nothing you could do to escape it
how your skin turned purple at the touch
and how I got drunk one night and cried
thanking every ounce of blood within you for continuing to run
even though you tried so desperately to stop it in its tracks
The first time we met
you swallowed me soul
and I never asked for it back
I tried for months
to drown myself in my own tears
but you still haunt my heart
I lie in bed and I can see your silhouette
outlined next to my fragile, shivering body
still craving your warmth
sometimes I hear your moans that haunted me
even when we were still together
I close my eyes and pretend that the
moon shining through my window
is your pale, glowing, glorious face

If my words could bring you back
I'd tell the mirror that you've gone away to battle
My noble prince will return
(Though your best weapons were always cold words and cold shoulders)

I'd inscribe my name into the bindings of all your favorite books
As though some part me could find some part of you in them

I'd yell at every pillow
That couldn't manage to muffle my cries

Every song that sounded just too much like us

Every fairy tale that seemed mocked us in it's polarity
(Dear, I wish I could've spun us in gold)

Every picture we took
That now look too much like broken promises

I'd sweet talk the fridge
Into making me feel worthy of more comfort food
I guess
you always said you like them "thick"
After you told me I'd gotten rounder

I'd scribble ***** sick sorrys into the floorboards
Serenading the floors you walked
(I think they turned to water on your final gracing of them
Because now I'm falling through)

I'd tell the fractures in these walls that you were the best filler
The fractures in my chest the same

I'd speak of you in the highest regard
My bourgeoisie balance act
Always calling for a coup d'état

And maybe that's why when I see you
I'm so choked up
I gargle these words in my mouth
But they fall into a silent drone
And If my words could bring you back
I still don't know that I could say a thing

i am sexually attracted to pencils.

I can't remember
The last time
I didn't
Write
Your name
In pen
In hopes that you
May be
More permanent
That way

I'm a little sleep deprived, a little too high, (a little too low) a lot hungry, a little overstressed, a little unfocused, (unconscious?) waiting, a little sick from-a little more caffeine please my cigarette buzz is going,
a little sore from running away, a little sore from being alone

Teaching girls **** prevention
Rather than showing boys urge suppression