maybe i'll come
see you
i could use
a ****

i hope you choke
on every i love you
**** you
****
you.

the universe hates me because
it forces me to eat stale bread
and leftover feelings.

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

I know about reciting love verses when you are supposed to be
writing your grocery list – fruits and vegetables
become a metaphor for why I hold my hand to your face
and I realize you told me not to fall in love with you, so I fell in
love with how we exist together instead.

Like salt in the ocean,
wires from a wall, I know I breathe for you a little too much –
matching the exhales to yours. I have a language that
only accepts the two of us, sounds lovely only because you live.

She lost herself in books
cigarettes
and music.
Because maybe she didn't want to be found.
She would always give you her all
because she never felt whole.
Her favorite places were the sea and the forest
because she could go there alone,
and let her demons play,
in the open space.
She would write among the tree's
and float among the waves.
All she ever wanted was love.
But she only found,
dying leaves
suffocating waves
lipstick stained cigarette butts
and sad songs that could put her to sleep.
and that's why she wanted to die.