does she know
how many times
p e r  m i n u t e
you tap your fingers on your thighs
when you're about to see her?

does she know
how many millimeters
your eyes dilate
when you see her?
but not me, not me

does she know
how white your knuckles are
when you hear that
somebody hurt her?
and i can hear you boiling

tell her to keep a tally
and beg me to not

i'm good at math;
counting things i'll never have.

I chanced upon a crow
Abandoned in a hedge
He did not move before me, lo
Left aside by roadway dredge

I knelt before his plume
And saw his eyes were took
I asked him, Crow, what is our doom?
He told me with a look

It is the sky and so the sea
To the spirits of the deep
It is the pillow to the free
Eyes weary for their sleep

It is the moment when the herd
Won't notice that you're gone
For I may be a dying bird
But it's the world that's wrong.

I took his pain off with a knife
And he said with his free breath
Grateful I am for my life
But I live much more with death

She loves how I act,
                                   But I don't see why.
She loves how I talk,
                                    But I hate it.
She loves how I think,
                                     But I don't get it.
She loves how I look,
                                     But I never saw it.

She loves, and I will never see,
Being all in love, and yet so unworthy...

I will always love
And I will always be taken advantage of
I've got problems with the moon
But I might be over it soon
And over you, too.

Take it out on me
So I can give it back
Let me blame you for my *******
While you use what I don't lack.

What a trip.*
I spent its entirety
Eating anxiety
And smiling at my fears

lashes catch the angel dust,
Tongue sizzles on the sun
He was born to be a mockingbird
He was born without a gun.

I can't even be honest creatively anymore.
She killed him.
I miscarried.
There's a poem in here somewhere,
I just can't tell it to you.