Black Chrysler.

White Ferrari.

Loaded barrel.

Dark corner.

Back seat.

Trigger, trigger.

Streetlight.

Unmade bed.

Bathroom floor.

Bang, bang.

You're like a beautiful disease,
Poisoning my thoughts,
With longing,
Making my heart beat,
Pleasantly fast,
Morphing clarity,
Into obscurity,
Preventing the inevitable,
That I dream of,
With your impractical logic

I wonder how I feel,
Within those hands,
Am I as cold,
As I remember feeling,

Do the scars,
Hollow your fingertips,
As they trace,
The rips clawed into my flesh,

I wonder how I feel,
When I'm beneath you,
Am I bones and blood,
Under the webs,

Do the tears match,
The texture of my veins,
As your nails chase,
That hollow pulse

It's that same,
Nauseating feeling,
Stuck in my throat,
I could almost throw up,
That feeling of betrayal,
Poisoning my thoughts,
I lean over the sink,
I can't win,
Never,
I want to run away,
Because I can never seem,
To understand,
Why me?

I change my mind,
I want to die.

You're tracing the edges,
Water all around,
Laughing and crying and screaming,
'Til you can't possibly take another breathe,
Can't make a sound,
So full of adrenaline,
Falling on the sand,
Sinking in the sand,
Half drowning in the salt and dirt and muck,
Black blood weaving it's way through the waves,
Weakening as it wanders out to nowhere,
That big old moon,
Wide and wise and obliterating,
Staring you down,
Back in your place,
That big old moon,
You tremble,
Fall apart,
Break apart,
Confess yourself,
To the big old moon

Birds with wings,
They all have wings,
Some soar above the clouds,
Through the gloden rays,
Of the burning sun,
But not all are so blessed,
Others are shot down,
By a satisfying bang,
From the barrel of a loaded gun,
Pointed and aimed at feather planes,
Some are born,
Incapable of flight,
Earth-bound and dreaming,
Of days filled with sky,
Yet the saddest,
Of flightless birds,
Are those who flew,
And woke with broken wings

I don't know how,
To fill pages with words,
About someone,
So full of colour

Breathing never satisfies,
This hunger,
For eternal silence,
And a simple, tragic ending,
Rather, it fuels the fire,
Of desperation,
For blood across my hands,
And tears me up,
Alive and open,
Bleeding truth,
Across the broken floor

Remembering,
Who we were,
Your hands on me,
Was all I needed,
Just to be,
Someone,
With you,
Moving too fast,
Blurring through time,
Blending,
Into the scenery

Blue,
Blue are your eyes,
Sad blue,
Cold blue,
Filling with lies,
Like my heart with hatred,
For blue,
In those same eyes,
Once I saw glimmers and glints,
Of honesty,
Hopeful blue,
But I realised too late,
The tyranny of blue,
The twistedness of blue,
Empty, heartless,
Blue

For a newer blue,
Of a different shade,
Warmer blue,
Like the summer-day's sky,
Gentler blue,
Like the backdrop of the moon,
Calmer blue,
Like the lapping waves of the ocean,
Caressing the lonely shore,
A charming, humourous blue,
A blue I haven't seen,
Brighter than any other, regardless

Hand clasped tightly within my chest

a vicious strangle-hold of love

constricting and welcome*



                                         My tender heart.

Girls like me don't make the same mistakes,
They hide,
Fill their hearts with bubble wrap,
And their stomachs with stale air,
Stitch on someone else's smile,
Write falsehoods on their tongues,
Steel rods up their backs,
Pins in their fingers,
Nails behind their teeth,
Cushioned with no-nonsense policies,
And venom on their sleeves.

You can't dodge the bullet twice.

How can I be,
Anything more,
Than this,
With the weight,
Of so many burdens,
Hindering my sight,
And weighing me down

Burn the roses,
The laughter, the smiles,
Up in flames,
With all my hope,
Our hope,
Light up the memories,
All of the 'we's, the 'us's,
Burn BURN BURN,
Up in smoke,
Everything,
Every part of us,
Every kind of sweetness,
All the clocks,
And cogs and smoldering, dying things,
That used to be love,
Licked up with your fire tongue,
Burn

Do you think,
The thoughts I hate,
Deadly and blunt,
Within our hearts,
Burning bridges,
Made to last,
As we die,
And tear apart

I am overwhelmed
by this monotonous hell.

Did I ever tell you,
Roses are my favorite,
In all colours,
With cherry blossoms round the edges,
And mint leaves on the side,

It was forget-me-nots,
When I was five,
But I still love their violet-blue,
And yellow freckles of pollen,
That melt with your eyes,

I liked sugar cubes then,
And honey in my tea,
With petals on my cake,
And I never screamed about bees,
When I played with the lavender,

I used to believe more,
Thinking everything was beautiful,
Like I could just lie on the grass,
Drinking lemonade forever,
And catching butterflies

It's hard to wonder,
If you're overrated,
When I'm caught,
Blurred vision to your fever,
Two steps behind

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.

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.

Sometimes I don't recognise
my own frayed edges; that pale
painted-faced girl slung on the
mirror's edge, the shadow I have become.

It could be clarity,
If I opened my eyes

The icy sting shocks me into consciousness,
and the water weighs heavy on my lashes.
I blink away the soft blurred white
and the sink is bleached and
clinical as the water rushes
over it's slick, porcelain skin.
The coolness traces the blood-rush red
of my crippled fingers, and slowly, I crumble.

I feel the wind,
Running through my hair,
Burning through my core,
It's cold,
I feel so cold,
Like you've taken your hand,
Soft, warm, safe,
Torn it from mine,
And allowed the warmth,
To escape,
Into the cruel, lonely world,
Replaced by icy air,
Making my blood run cold

This has all become
A string of missed calls,
Torn envelopes, cast aside
Gossip, mouth to mouth
Stage whispers that never
Meet their ends. This has
All collapsed.

I should like,
To abandon gravity,
And float,
Amongst the stars,
Where rushed embraces,
Fleeting, fumbling fingers,
And urgent kisses,
Do not leave me,
So dis-satisfied,
And hungry,
For prolongued collisions,
And tenderly whispered quotations,
Of love and death,
Sung so sweetly,
From your lips,
As to cause blood to rush,
Under your cool fingers,
As our hearts pound,
In syncronisation,
Counting the inconstant time,
With skipped beats,
And delayed breaths,
So easily over-looked,
And in spite of the warning,
They possess,
Forgiven and forgotten

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

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.

I speak,
In a string of words,
Placed carefully,
Side by side,
Line after line,
Imposing myself,
On the broken world,
For the loss,
Of composure

I break,
Under your hands,
Conforming,
To your pressure,
And substance,
Religiously studying,
The design you've made of me,
Fitting the corners,
Becoming the curves,
Filling arms,
And leaking,
Inconstant,
From moonlight eyes

Good girls sew their mouths shut.
We stitch our eyes closed
and turn down the volume
of our breathing.

Dressed up in stereotypes
with our limbs twisted
for a taste of something
of substance.

No trespass of emotion;
no warmth to expose us
to cold beds and cold hands.

Good girls sew their minds shut
and do as they're told.

"You caught a plane"

                     *More correctly:
                                I broke your fall,
                                you broke my neck.






                                                   ­                    Don't catch planes.