I'll remember the All Stars
Covered in mud from our roaming
Through summer festival love;
And starry skies above
As we wondered through the night
Until the Sun kissed us;
The rocking of bodies,
Beneath blankets of darkness,
Our skin shimmering
In the moonlight.
I'll remember that.

But the dreams changed & faded
As the world turned
A new sun rose:
Fuelling my heart with desires,
Passions of bigger things.
I grew wings and
I flew to meet the horizon.
But you, you wouldn't see me
As I went into the light.
And so, your world became dark.
I left you there. I left your heart.

I could only carry one.
I was only strong for one.
I'd hoped you'd grow with me.
But you couldn't see.
You couldn't breathe
The bigger dreams in.
The things I chose
For me. For my destiny.
You needed to fumble through more muddy fields,
Dream beneath the same stars longer.
I left you there.
Because I cared too much.
And we'd started to tear.
The seams ripping open.
Breaking us was more than I could bare.
So I left you there. I left you.

I Google “how to get over a broken heart”
12,200,000 results in .76 seconds
I think about your hand between my thighs
get a bottle of whiskey
and tell myself I will never call you sober
One morning I woke up in your bed and you weren’t there
One morning I woke up in your bed and you were there
See, that’s the thing about being in love with a ghost
Ghosts make the worst tenants, I didn’t ask for this
I didn’t ask you to haunt me with the way you smack your lips after a drag of your cigarette, and the next one, and the next one. I didn’t want to remember the songs, the music playing in the background, us, the main performance, dancing in your sheets. I touch your forehead with my forehead. It’s sweaty. I find out that ghosts can sweat. Ghosts can tell you they like your new tattoos but all you hear is “There’s a reason I left after your first one”. If I got a tattoo for every time I thought about your lips they would run out of ink.
You’re like a foot of snow after the weatherman said showers
and I’m the mess they clean up in the morning.

i watch her lips move as she speaks
the symmetry of her face
stained glass eyes with cheeks of rose
a complexion as flawless as a fresh spring day
my heart is broken with every word she speaks.
for i feel my imperfections resounding more clearly in her beautiful frame
than i ever could in a mirror.
legs longer than any lie of self-love that i could ever spin
her waist narrow, molded into galaxies that boys will dream of grasping.


if she is spring, than i am the middle of february.
my skin is clear the way that the sky is green
my figure an ominous cloud of a long winter
lackluster, abrasive
daring those who look upon it to find themselves immediately disinterested

for i hold no fear for the oblivion of darkness
would march into the depths of the sea without glancing back
pretty girls are my sole fear
for i know that by the end of the day
you will look to her and, much like myself, not find a single flaw in her effortless effervescence,
and i will go by without so much as a passing glance.