Smoke and fire and oil and fog.
Palm trees, brown lawns and smog.
The last drag on your cigarette in the early morning dew.

The last thread on your navy skirt,
unravels from old into new.

How to tell the time,
when you no longer feel it at all.
When you water yourself,
but grow smaller,
not tall.

When the leather strap around your waist,
merely hides your only fate.
When at the end of the day,
on your taxi ride home,
you find yourself all alone.

And you take the last drag on your cigarette in silence.

truly, things have never been better
right on track to the me for so long
i have wanted to be
brutal honesty has a place in this picture perfect picture
(naturally)
and so i must shine a light on this ugly(?) truth:
i've buried you a hundred times
and still the memory of you transcends the dirt.
my not quite cowboy...
i loved being your city girl.
i'm on automatic to stop myself from
remembering what your love felt like
that girl is still here but at the same time
very far gone.
you would be so proud
or maybe not
i don't know if there's even a grip on you anymore
but in case you're with me right now,
i'm proud of you & think of you often
except i think if i ever see you again i'll instantly
melt.
:'(

When you like somebody so much but you don't know how to tell him,
When you are not sure about what you feel.
When you want to ask him to stay longer but he has to pick up his mom.
When you can't hide the disappointment on your face.
But he said that this soon shall pass.

When he said he was attracted to you
When he hugs you and buries his face in your hair,
When he looks at you with his baby blues so clear
When he laughs with you
When he listens so attentively when you talk
The world is filled with colors

When you knew it was coming
But you thought you could dodge it
When he sat down and said sorry.

When he texts you, When he said he would text you
When he talks with modal auxiliary verbs.
When he tells you his family history.
When I see his eyes brighten
When I think I am falling but don't know his side of story.
are all fragments of our memories.

When he said it's still beautiful to leave when you have developed feelings.

Remember me when you leave.

Alone, 5 letters
To some it's just a small word
For others it's life

warm hands,
warm heart

Always long sleeves
Tight jeans
Never a crop top,
Tank top,
Or halter top in sight.
 
Never questioned
Or noticed.
Even the summer
Showed no interest
In what she wore over
And what she wore under.
 
She was decorated in
Necklaces,
Headbands,
Anklets,
But never bracelets.
 
She was decorated in
Battle wounds,
Angry scars,
Nasty lines,
But never anything pretty appeared
 
There underneath
Where underneath
No one would look.

Why?
She tried
Too much.
She was tired
Too much.
She cried
Too much.
Why?
Too much.
 
High,
Cry,
Try,
Why?
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
 
Take it.
All of it.
None of it.
Some of it.
One of it.
When will all of it
Leave
Leave
Leave?
 
So who would know?
Where she was
Why she was
What she was
When she was
Gone
Gone
Gone
 
Done.