For the first time I couldn't see ***** water under our shining city lights.
I kissed you in the site of where I made my first great mistake
and found that nothing ever changes. How did you make me forget
those seven months without you?  

For the first time in a long time, you spoke to me without her
in the back of your throat. You made me seek comfort in the frigid grass
where our friends once stood.

For the first time I wanted to remember you in the dark
formations of frostbite. Your love is the pink, needle stabbed skin of hypothermia and I will never forgive myself for wanting to freeze.

For the first time in a long time, I thought I had truly won
since you showed me the pain of losing. I let you feed me three word lies
in cold smoke and twirl me across the concrete. I let you try
and cushion the blow of broken bones. Failure, I’m sure,
you never saw in splattered marrow.

This was the last time you let me love you and this is all that’s left of it.
I swear this is the last of it.

You are the smoky breath of a liar,
the paper in which he is licked and twisted,
and the only betrayal he will ever know.

Could you taste ashes
in the mouth of the other man?
Could you find satisfaction
in the burns of the other woman?

Your eyes are the black and blue bruises of night.
You are loud like broken glass,
quiet like the cracks,
and never saw sympathy in thread fuses.

You are a woman of fire
and love only those with gunpowder hearts.

“There’s 7 billion, 46 million people on the planet and most of us have the audacity to think we matter” –George Watsky  

Dear George,  
You were there for everyone else. I cried for them all while my dad begged you in whispers,
and you melted into the crowds of people,
and you dove from the balconies,
and pretended like the world consisted of somebodies.
You left me with cold copies and ignorant earth.  
Somehow you made 4am into something selfish.
I was losing lessons I was willing to learn. I had no songs to sing,
while you were serenading the ****,
and were packing his bags, and became his love letters for her,
and you made me lose someone I never had.

You wrapped every lesson I ever needed up in an empty inbox.    
You painted San Fran diamond sidewalks empty gold,and I needed you!
You were there for the mutilated, and kissed their filthy trigger fingers, and spat on birthday wishes, and you made me desire the life of a passenger.
You were the only one that reminded me how to smile; you drowned out slamming doors…  
You didn’t have to make the water thicker or make the bottom seem so far.
You didn’t have to give them boats of Titanic shards!
Your silence  made sinking inevitable.  

You gave me more with empty hands than I ever would have thought.  You taught me that every hero dies,
and that I will always love the traitors,
never love cardboard cutouts, or dream of cardboard castles.
You showed me how it feels grasping at ghosts,
and how much you can doubt,and just how much that hurts.  
I hope you never write your idols.  

With Love,  
The Girl That Will Never Learn

Somehow they made us places.
You were a king’s vacation home
and I was everyone else’s waiting room.
They made you something for the best  
and I got the ones stalling someone for better.

I want to know the first person to fall in love.
I want to tell them of you and I,
and what happened to you and I,
then maybe I can be the first one to break a heart.