There comes a moment when you want to write about something so beautiful
That it refuses to be transcribed into ink, and you're stuck with only memory

Hold me with your words around my neck
Choke me with your lips and the poison kisses you'll give me
Let me taste fire and let my insides burn with
Only ashes left behind
And don't leave any evidence for them to find.

And she then asked me
'So, what is your story'
And I melted at those words
That my life is a storybook
That was interesting enough
For God to print and publish

I don't exactly know what to say,
so let me touch you and tell you
my tongue doesn't have to form words
to let you know how I feel. my hands don't
have to draw beautiful people to make you
burn inside- art is from person to subject to person, complex
*** is intimate because it doesn't cross any bridges
it blends into you without an intermediary
Humans make art, God made ***
and one of them is the perfection of the other-
a spinning whirling love that creates
tying people together, the greatest act of humankind,
and I'm playing with you like a puppet on strings
plucking and making music like some deep wooden
long-forgotten instrument, we dance
like pens or swords, each to each, love and war,
and together we're a masterpiece.

radiating out of the hollow hole inside me
where butterflies used to thrive
is a saddness so enveloping
so thorough, that it is filling me up.
and drowning me from the inside.
suffocating and sobbing and begging for air,
it beats at my eyelids and bursts out of my eyes.
this icy saddness which freezes and burns my throat
and makes me curl up like a sinking body in the artic oceans.
as if im protecting the frozen hollows of my heart
against any onslaught of unrequited love i might suffer next.
everynight i find tears on my face as i chide my sobbing
into a quieter tremble of my body,
i cannot let anyone see how torn you've left me
the mask i wear is perfected, self created of shame,
i wish i could show someone
im not as unbreakable as i pretend.
but though i ache to be loved
and i miss you
and i have dreams of kissing you
circumstances demand
that i suffocate and sink
to the coldest darkest place
that i have ever been.