she reads books and she plays music
the cute, innocent
clumsy girl
with freckles on her cheeks

you like to read and listen to music
the cool, handsome
sweet-talking man
who likes freckles on her cheeks

[ or at least you said you did ]

she rolls her eyes at your compliments
the cautious, bright
guarded girl
with curiosity in her eyes

you lay them on thick
the certain, sharp
imprudent man
with hidden agendas on your lips

she lingers a little longer
in hopes of crossing your path throughout the day

she laughs at your jokes
and you know they're not funny

she sings for you in the car because
you like her voice

[ or at least you said you did ]

she's become good at excuses
the hopeful, naive
kind-hearted girl
with sureness in her words

you soak them up
the stark, ill-intentioned
vacant boy
with uncertainty in your voice

she gave all she had to care for you,
the smooth, clever
self-serving boy

you convinced her that you loved her

[ or at least you said you did ]

it drips from the bottle
and into your
mouth
which spouts words
with no regard for my
feelings
that you don't know how to address
without alcohol kissing your
lips
that form sentences
with a mind of their own
uninhibited by their flattery of me when they were
  sober.

it agitates your face
as it rests in your
hands
that used to hold mine and it
glazes over your
eyes
that used to light up when they saw me
or when they heard my
name
that you can hardly stand to speak
without alcohol
dancing on your
breath
that doesn't render sounds
without cheap courage summoned
  up.

it depresses your
mind
that I used to find intriguing
as it was paradoxically
kind with a quick
wit
that no longer aims
to make me laugh
but is now restrained by the liquor
label
that you plastered to yourself
without concern -
would you even stop
if your own bottle said
  please?

Pictures, now, are strange to me
Once upon, what "is"
Has no "never be's"
Pictures, now, are strange to me

A snapshot back to a certain future
Laughter shared; tears, too
It precedes my doubtful memory
Pictures, now, are strange to me

Once upon, what "is"
Lives indefinitely
Unaware of what will never be
Pictures, now, are strange to me

Printed pieces of boundless time
Whose citizens are full of life,
Safe from looming trajedies
Pictures, now, are strange to me

Once upon, who "is"
Are now all ghosts
Free, from framed captivity
Pictures, now, are strange to me

Did you think about me
When you walked into the woods
Did you think about your family
Or only of the shoulds?

Knife in your hand
Did you think about how life isn't fair?
Ready to take your stand
Did you not think your kids would care?

Blade to your stomach
Did you feel the pain?
Already making your summit
Was my love just in vain?

Blade to your chest
Did you stutter at all?
Did you realize you were committing theft?
Then you began to fall

Blade to your wrist
Did your life flash before your eyes?
Not even for a split
Second, did you think about how we would cry?

Blade to your neck
How did you do it?
You turned our lives awreck
Then you made the final slit

As you laid on the ground
As your blood soaked that leaf
Did you make a final sound?
Or were you content with your relief?

As we searched in the woods
We prayed for you
And we thought of the coulds
Our heart turned blue

Then we got the news
They found your body
People began to accuse
Us of your death, oddly

Time went by
And our grief remained
Now we look to the sky
Whenever you are named

he said he would bring me flowers;
i didn't know the kind he was talking about

he said they're the most beautiful i'll ever see
and he was right
these flowers don't grow from water though

for some reason they only sprout when my friend is around

he gives me the seeds, they fall from my eyes and caress my cheeks
sometimes, I catch them in my hands
usually I just let them go

but he is a generous friend,
always waiting around the corner

i like bouquets but he hates picking his flowers
so he flirts with my mind to capture my heart
and the garden blossoms

i used to hate him and his gifts

not any more,
i think they're graceful and they speak to my soul

i'm not heartbroken
just a little heart-sprained

i'm not sad
just don't have the happiness i once claimed

i'm not angry
just not as understanding anymore

i'm not bitter
just not as sweet as i was before

i know that with bones, a clean break
is usually better than a sprain

so i just hope

that a heartbreak
isn't better

than a heart-sprain

pure of heart - that's what they tell me
"you're too pure of heart"
"you'll get hurt too easy"

should i put up some walls?
would that protect me?
or should i continue on

caring -
about people who don't care for themselves
about people who don't care for me

loving -
people who don't love themselves
people who don't love me

i could put up some walls
i could adopt apathy

but then

i would just be

someone who doesn't love for others
someone who doesn't care for me

"she sounds hideous!"
that thing you mentioned,
i know you're not perfidious -
i just like the faux contention

i laugh at the absurdity,
you roll your eyes to my fake mistrust;
you play your face of perfidy -
as if you could be that unjust

"you didn't have to say that!"
to your well-rationed tenderness,
from obligation, since i like to chat -  
a sucker for your incessant cleverness

"jokes, jokes... it's only a joke"
per your own amusement, you smile and titter
somehow, my endearment, your raillery does evoke
and your licentious comments...
they make my heart flitter

who's so different now?
is it you or i?
who actually lost the person they knew?
was it i or you?

not quite a stranger yet
just someone i no longer know
best friends not two weeks back
it's funny how these things go

thought i'd never lose your love
at least, you told me so
but you needed to make your decision
and now i need to grow

i'm wholesome and you're incomplete
and that's why we've come undone

you needed what you took from me
more than i needed not be taken from

but may i just remind you -
dear, this game is not 0 sum

so the next time that i give to you,
just know it's me who's won

you once were my sun -
even on the clearest of the days,
i would use the lowest SPF
just to soak up all your rays

i once was your shade -
to cool you when you got too heated
i welcome you with a place of rest
for when you felt defeated

you once were my mirror -
anything i wore, said, or did i do
was with the intent of showing
that i truly cared for you

but it's on the clearest days
to our eyes, the heat does sabotage
you knew, gladly acting as the sun,
but it took me longer to figure out -

that i had fallen for a mirage

not because it's full
but
because
you

s
     p    i
                 l            l
                                        e     d
                                                                me.

is what you left me
not important enough to be named
no reason, no plot
no closure

i know you won't admit it -
that you're still not feeling whole

you cast your mold, knowing i would not fit it
but wasn't that the goal?

you finalized your strategy -
everything in place

used up all your flattery
it's safe to say you lost your face