He told her she was pretty
Made her feel wanted and loved
Then walked away with the innocence
Of that sweet little dove

attacked me like
a rabid dog
eager to taste flesh

bit into me like
raw meat
(because really that's all I am)

tore me open like
wrapping paper on a gift
you weren't supposed to see yet


I shut down like
a restaurant with health code violations
infested with rats

fell into you like
pavement
from thirty stories

poisoned myself like
a carbon monoxide car garage
falling unconscious long before death

you're different.
for some unknown reason.
when i see you
i just get this sudden urge to
joke around with you
sing duets with you
or simply just talk.
there's just something about you
that drives me to feel things
i've never felt before.

I see metaphors from broken hearts
and wish my heart would break into
something beautiful.
I spend my time making love to pen and paper
in hopes of producing
something acceptable.
I wait at my desk for hours,
crying and trying
to purge something useful out of me.
But no matter how hard I try,
no matter how much my fingers bleed
and my heart aches
I will never be a Poe, Hemingway or Dickinson.
I'm just a fragile little girl wearing her heart not on her sleeve but on paper.
Hoping,
praying,
that will be enough.

As to the times and the seasons
As to men and their reason
For though things suddenly come
Whether be demons or the glorious son
We do not thrive in darkness
We were not made for the night
To us stars, angels, harken
You are the children of light

I want to softly whisper
incomplete poems
on your collar bones
that don't rhyme with anything
but your heavy breathing.

I want to bury my face
in the curves of your neck
because you smell like the winter clouds
and I've been gazing at the sky
since you left.