Words once spent cannot be refunded,
And harsh words between lovers
Cut twice as deep. I can erase the horrible things I say,
But a wound is still left on you, the person I love the most.
I will clean and dress that wound for you, until it closes
And heals, and I will kiss it each day, until the pain fades away,
And leaves behind nothing but the tiny scar,
which we add to the collection of the scars we both bear,
And the list of trials and tribulations that have made our love stronger.
Knowing my words hurt you so, rips my intestines out trough my mouth,
Flays my skin with a razor made of salt, and dunks my feelings
In a vat of acid,
And it is what I deserve
For hurting someone who does so much for me,
And grants me the freedom to be me.
I can say I'm sorry until the frozen hell melts again,
And it wont make a difference,
I will instead, show you I am sorry,
From this day forward
I won't cut you again,
My goblin of cruel words is dead.
Your love helped me **** it.

I am not the one for you,
Nor you the one for me.
We are not each other's halves,
No puzzle piece or key.

I am not your mother's love,
Nor you my perfect mold.
My heart is not your tambourine
To play as we grow old.

We are not the perfect match,
The blue of oceans deep.
When will I confess to you
The love I cannot keep?

Burn it.

The charm of Endearingly Different
The Elegance of Eloquence
The Stage upon which I perform for the
You I do not know.

The airless chambers in which we pretend to breathe
Burn them.
Burn your favorite things to hide behind
My perfect little oddities

More and more these days
The nights seem quieter
The days shorter
And in the sterile hours of sleep
I pray for ashen rain.

so i lost my mind today.
in a simple sweep,
like the wind.
i forgot my lies today.

they emptied out of their host.
all of my sad sayings,
my rotten words,
they finally ate through..

their clutches tore right through my skin
They broke me till they could no longer hold
and i was left
in this mess
surrounded
by my bruised up soul.

don't name it,
so it doesn't exist.
almost doesn't matter,
so it wasn't almost a kiss.

Two words
you paired and stretched to fit
between us
Bitter and beautiful on my tongue:
Más despacio.

More slow-space:
A translation in my mind,
distant and young and heavy
with so much smooth hair knotted-up
to tie off my twisted thoughts
from escaping.

If only my sheer, shiny verbosity
could challenge
all the air
of that slow-space
you so tersely placed
between
us.

Fiona told me that all poems should start
with roses and violets of red and blue.
So: Fiona’s a cool blue to Liz’s flaming red heart.
And I the daisy closely combining the two.

the daisy smiles up at the sun.
to soften the fearless red rose is its goal.
Forever intertwining the daisies and roses roots run.
The violet has such a friendly soul.

Forever laughing you and me.
Broken with companionable silence.
The violet, daisy, and rose create such a scene.
Our life together is such a colorful riot!

Together forever they will grow tall.
So tightly knit are their stems they will never fall.