I only want you to
touch me one last time; to let me
forget myself.

It's become nothing more than
a vivid dream, replayed in my
mind through a blurry lense.
You ignore it; it keeps me awake
every night.

Hear my love confession
whispered under the blackness of night.
It trembles from my lips
like your sweet kisses;
traded like secrets
passed with fumbling hands
and twisted limbs
tied around your waist like a knot,
too tight to unravel
with these silent words.

I wasn't expecting you
to put your hands on me
so soon. It happened so fast
and then you were all over
me and it was done. It happened
in the blink of an eye.

It's changed us but I should have
known it would, that you wouldn't
think of me afterwards.

Will you catch me
when I fall for you

I read the words but
they won't sink in.
I'm looking into your eyes
but I can't see past
the anatomical details.
I'm opening my mouth
but the words are noiseless
moths with dusty wings.
I want to tell you
anything; that you mean
something.
I want to reach out but
you won't reach back.

I'm closing the door but
I can't walk away.

There is nothing inside me.

Love me in the
back seat of your car

I feel your bones through
your skin and I wonder
if you love me.

I can't undo this;
I can't untangle you from
my sheets.

I can't cut away my scars.

I can't unravel my knotted veins.

I can't see past this.

I'm in too deep -
my own emotions
are the rope around my neck.
You make me want to drag
knives through my skin and
drip blood on your white carpet.

Tear my clothes off,
tear my heart out.

I want to hold you
with pages and ink.

Acid in my lungs,

I can feel the chemical reaction

burning up my atoms:

bubbling
                         boiling
                                                bursting

in my chest.

I'm coming apart

in your hands.

His voice trails off like
a soft caress.
I can almost hear
the tremble on his lips
at the close;
the vibrations reverberating
through my ears.

I can't escape the darkness
of his terrible stare,
the determination burned into
the black stars of his eyes.

It makes me want to fall apart,
that gravitational pull
like a hook through my ribs,
caught on my lungs.

I can feel that damp, course grass beneath my feet.
I'm nauseous again, in that place again.
I can feel their eyes on my veins,
I can feel him, breathing on my neck,
I can hear him laughing.

It's dizzying, sickening,
like blaring white noise
screeching from a broken radio.

It's an itch that crawls down my arms,
a hand around my throat that tells me to stop breathing;
to stop fighting.

I want to give in.
I want to bleed again.
To feel the metal scrape through all my layers
and cut me open.

I want to cut it all away.

You're my dream,
my immutable love.

Do you ever feel the ice
wrap tight around your chest?
Its long, bone-thin fingers
fill the gaps between your ribs;
you feel those nails,
familiar as an old friend,
rake across your skin.

I can feel him trace
the chill along my spine.
His whispers
raising the hairs of my neck,
as his darkness cloaks my eyes.

Do you ever feel him?
His devil's grin against your cheek;
that cruel, cold laughter
stealing your breath away.

It's heavy now;
swirling black air that clogs your lungs.
It's almost narcotic,
the way its smoke vines
creep in through your nostrils
to suffocate your mind.

You can feel its heat
erasing your own fingerprints;
seeping through your tangled veins;
reaching into your heart
to burn a black hole in your very core.

As you inhale,
it ignites your vision.
You open your eyes
and the world is red;
you open your mouth
and release Hell's fire.

I wish I could make music with my words
and spin a beautiful arpeggio, piano-piano web:
a breath-taking composition of minor cords
and soft leaps over thick ivory keys
that sing under my fingers.

I wish I could create an embrace
entirely of music. An embrace to hold
and to love and to kiss sweet, sweet joy
right into your ears.

I am desperate for that tender, hungry touch
and the heavy gasp of his saturated lungs,
as he burns me with the fire of his stare
and the hot sting of his palms
cools like tingling fever on my skin.

Unholy light, dim with secrets
two angels
grappling in the endless black.

Hand clasped tightly within my chest

a vicious strangle-hold of love

constricting and welcome*



                                         My tender heart.

I do not love you at all.

You're nothing more than a nuisance, a wound
that does not scab for days, stinging
and scarring - the excess ink smudging
my palm, grey scuff on white plaster.

You are no thorn in my side, merely
the splinter snapped at the skin after
several failed attempts of removal.

Loose thread, forgotten lyric, dripping tap,
incessant beeping, flickering fluorescent light
on a dim, graffitied train, spray painted
in "*******"'s, typo on the final draft.

I don't love you, never loved you at all.

I feel coldness within me,
the gentle thrum of my quiet heart.
Frantic, muffled beating,
that hums against my ribs,
gaining momentum,
as pupils swallow irises;

all consuming blackness.

Clothed in endless fibers of unsolved equations,
my skin is every A, B, C+ I've ever had.
My tongue and teeth carved from
over-used quotations.
Hair of flowing shreds of wasted time.
Eyes of burnt projector lights.
Red ink corrections on my lips.
I wear my science textbook heart on my sleeve,
dissected and un-beating
in your unyielding grasp.

Just let me look at all the things
I can't really see.

A humble void, announced
by glaring, violent neon.
Glowing between the bones
of dusk and reborn light.
You wander between the space
of almost and not quite.
You are never quite, never quiet.

You have grown within me,
To take your place and fill my hollowness.
To fill my blood and lungs
With excruciating love.
You have broken my bones and carved my skin
With the bitterness of need;
Coloured my flesh with blooming, helpless desire
To be coveted
To be smothered by your longing;
I give all myself to you.

I love you.

And I don't mean that like I'm on my way out to work,
leaving a kiss on your cheek, coming home for dinner.

I mean it like I can't see a light at the end of the tunnel
and we're not coming out of this fire alive.

I mean it like a last will and testament. A final confession.

A plead of mercy.

I love you, until the end.

What is it to deserve another?
Is it a mere vow,
the price of a coveted soul?
Nothing can be so simple,
so dangerously complex,
so contrary,
as love.

A finger, gently approaching
it's owner's counterpart.

A hand and it's twin,
enclosed around a waist, locked
around hips and wrists.

An arm wrapped over another's torso,
concealing the chill of night,
as two shoulders meet.

A neck, kissed by a lover's breath,
which trails from lips, snaking towards
the curve of a red smile.

Two tongues, caught in the fervor
of passion and darkness, that lights
a flame in their cheeks.

Lashes scraping noses with the flutter
of an eyelid; eyes embrace their sight
as they open.

I have salvaged you from this blood; this waste.
I have salvaged you, you alone. There is nothing
more to me, there is nothing else to lose,
nothing else to give.
I have salvaged you, and when once more
I stand alone in the wreckage,
it is you I will salvage again.

Sometimes, the world pours from my eyes
and all light escapes me.

I am incongruous;
inconstant. I am this
night, this day arising
from the hollows of
death, despair. I am
this broken cry, shattering
the glass silence; disruption
of the subtle calm that
holds you. I disclose myself
in all my intimacy, in my darkest
shade, in my natural state
of blood and skin. I disclose
myself to the cold stare of
a view from some high up
place. Some high up place of
judgement that strikes me down.
Strike me down in my place.
Hold me no more.

I used to think you knew me.
Now you just hold my lungs underwater.

I'm going to be somebody someday.

I'm going to matter, be something
worth the minute it would have taken to say 'hi'.

I'm going to be loved, more than just temporarily.

I'm going to be worth more than a birthday card
with no greeting, no hugs, no wishes.

I'm going to be somebody you can't touch,
Someone happy, somebody with someone to come home to.

I'm going to be someone, without you.

Stop me.

I need help.

I will keep bleeding. I will keep bleeding. I will keep bleeding.

Until you hear me. Hear me.

Snap the metal. Snap the bars. Snap the wrists. Snap my neck.

I need a wake up call.

I need a phone call.

Stop me.


Wake me up.

You fill my heart with balloons,
and my lungs with sunshine.

You fill me
with a love so strong,
it could bring me to pieces.
You fill me
with joy.

I wish I were a paper plane;
that I had a sky
in which to roam.

The cavity blooms
from the bones.
Twigs and bones,
hollowed out by parasites.

I am the numbness
Of the rotting earth;
The molten sky of an
All-consuming hell.

You're the bones of my earth,
but there's always something
hollow under this ground. Some
empty coffin, full of air that was
a man, a boy; a monster. He was
full of the air of my world. He
wretched it from his lungs;
wretched it from my lungs.

You might as well bleach the salt from your skin.
It will still taste of ashes.

You're closer, almost
in reach of my senses. Your
familiar sting on my skin,
that touch I could never quite
trust. Don't let me breathe
you in.

I love you sometimes,
when we're kids again.

I hope you're all cut up,
seeing the red between
the lines. I hope you're
seeing me when you fake
it with her. I hope you're seeing
my reds on her whites. I
hope you **** her up just like
the last one. I hope you ****
her up, just like me.

I hope you're all cut up,
just reading this.

It's like candle wax on a birthday cake;
a big, hard stone in your throat.
Like the amounting frustration
crushed up in a child's fists
when mummy says 'no'.
It's knowing there's an enemy
in a friend; a monster
under your bed.

I met him once,
under a hazy night
that leaked gasoline.
He looked like light,
but he was fire.