from rain,
should i turn into a storm?
howling like the wind,
making noise,
to get you to hear me?
more raindrops; more tears,
to make you feel
drenched in remorse?
harsher and faster,
much like a hurricane,
to get you to see
how messed up i am?
when i'm stronger
like the storm,
would you love me more?

6 AM,
but I woke up yesterday.

I go to call her,
but she's not awake, anyway.

At this time,
I'm the only one awake.

And I just can't forget her
, for heaven's sake.

6:05

My alarm goes,
but I'm already up.

I drift off,
almost,
but not too much.

I close my eyes,
and see her face.

I pull up the covers,
and feel her embrace.

So I wont
fall asleep,
dream,
or close my eyes.

Not until
my unconscious mind
can realise:
That I'm tired
of being awake
in a life
that gives nothing
and only takes;
and that I'm tired
of not
being able to rest
without being reminded
that the best
thing that happened to me
is gone,
and now I have
no one.

I am lost,
but I think I'll be okay.

6:15 AM
and it's a brand new day.

he is not heaven. he is not a deep breath of fresh air after being
trapped inside for so long he is suffocation. when his saturated fingers
touch me I am filled with a never ending fire that keeps me
awake until two a.m. and makes me question everything I've
ever believed. he likes to swear up and down on the metal cross
around his neck and pretend he is God when he looks at me.
his kisses are never filled with love they are filled with narcotics
and taste like a bittersweet kind of hatred. he smokes quietly and
slowly inhaling every toxic fume and making clouds
big enough to convince you that they are skies. everything about him
screams shades of cool he is blue he is black his smile is gold
his eyes are grey and he is the color spectrum at its darkest.
he speaks quietly and laughs loudly and cries silently when
he thinks nobody can hear him. I wake up every morning to the
sound of tiny bullets of water scorching his back but he
likes the burn so I do not say a thing. he loves the way I sing
and teases me endlessly and whispers ****** things when
our friends are around because he is an exhibitionist.
I do not know what this is. I do not know who he is.
but at the same time I do not know who I am either,
we are cataclysmic together and wreak havoc wherever we go
but there is something so beautiful about what a disaster
we are together that i do not want to say goodbye.
he is the lover I never have to worry about loving back
and that if nothing else matters

(h.l.)

11.25.15

.
a■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
quiet  sol-■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■­■■■■■
itude envelopes■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
my space • deflecting■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
all that is consequential•lea-■■■■■■■■■■■
ving voiceless  thoughts i cannot■■■■■■■■
trace • only ghost-like echoes vi-■■■■■■■■
sit;  faint  and subtle •nestling in■■■■■■■■
this void that i am in• comfort e-■■■■■■■■
mbraces warm like a  long lost fr-■■■■■■■■
iend•i melt as i sink deeper with-■■■■■■■■
in• slow tumble into an abyss w-■■■■■■■■
ith no end•relativity dissolves in-■■■■■■■■
to nothingness •everything seems■■■■■■■■
warped and incoherent•there is...■■■■■■■■
an odd strength about being wei-■■■■■■■■
ghtless • as the currents carry me■■■■■■■■
away from the days' detriments...■■■■■■■■
welcome, come in......you've been■■■■■■■■
here before•do not fear......it's not■■■■■■■■
too far • just a few steps, beyond■■■■■■■■
the door•slip into my dark-          
   ness for i've left the
               gates to my
                         mind
                              ...

slightly ajar•
.

.
•my
arms point
to the sky•
a gesture
                           frozen in                 eter-
                                 nity•un-                fazed as
                                   the clouds                whisper a
        lie•                 rumours of                 rain that
  never               came quickly•            prickles
protrude             menacingly            •threaten-
ing all who          would stray         too close•      
baseless            gossip that   masquerade    
as pleasant-   ry•to deviate me from      
the path i chose•still i stand            
here...duelling the sun          
•in a land scorched            
barren•search-  
ing for hope
when there's 
really none•
here i stand...
lonely and
drought
stricken•
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
­••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
.

.
  •  they say light-
ning never stri-  
kes •  twice in       
the very same          
place•not as              
if it chooses                  
the  person                      
it likes•nor                          
has it targ-                              
   eted a familiar face • growing  
accustomed to these repeated  
                    jolts•i stay fro-
               zen in anticip-
           tion•for subs-
       equent influx
     of volts•is th-
 is love or me-
re petty infa-    
tuation?•ca-        
       n't believe my luck • be-
       cause  time...  and again,  
                    inevitably•i
               stand here,
            apparently
        struck•e-
   very  ti-
me you
cast a...    
a gla-        
nce               
at                   
•                      

ME•                            ­  
.