You ask
to have it all
you already have
the all of me
that silently whispers
I love

a mantra in my head
resting on your shoulder
my fingers tracing words
on your chest
that spell out
stay, be mine.

and although i'll most likely make the mistake again...
you were the lesson i needed to learn.

I'm just soaking
in it
Just counting the
minutes
Blood stained water
             in
                 the
                      tub
It's hardly the time now
is it
When you're breaking a
little bit
Shoving purple fists
                into
                       walls
I just can't help
it now
You'll have to show
me how
Not to cut myself into
          internal
                        scars
I'm so sorry
that I
Can't keep my ****
face dry
But the water is above
               my
                   head
You could do so much
better
Instead you chose to keep getting
wetter
This tub has been keeping
                 you
                        in
I can't seem get out of
my skin
And I kept thinking where
have you been
It has started to fill up
              my
                    lungs
But you have decided to
stay afloat
While I begin to sink beneath
the boat
At least I can see you
          breathing
                           still

Flames behind me
the smoke blinds me
the fall in front of me
don't wanna jump, not for the life of me.

We've all hit our expiration dates
Johnson dangling, entangled in a wire
he's 68, he was about to retire
a burnt child dreads the fire
and he's a lump of charcoal.

Up many storeys
the planes hit precisely.
News helicopters flying and taping
there's no escaping,
the fire's approaching.

I need to jump,
no slow death here.
Here we go,
Geronimo!

Fire caught me in my fall
God's doing his roll call
pain in my legs as the ground comes closer
I move quick, I cannot breathe, my lungs are squished
Did I tell my kids I love them?
No, but I wish.

I don't sleep.
My heart is too restless,
it's been pounding out your name.
So I lie awake next to lovers
I don't love,
pretending I don't taste our forgotten promises
in their mouths.
I act like their strange hands
don't leave fists in my gut,
and I'm not really choking
on their unfamiliar tongues.
No, my eyes don't burn
when they close theirs,
and in the morning
yes, I slept fine.
But I'm just pretending.
My heart was racing all night,
beneath sheets we never shared,
trying to forget your name.

every day, speak a little less
reduce the number of words you say from half to
ten less, and then none at all.

Don't forget to be soft.
Kiss your mountaintop goodbye for
one last sunrise and descend
into the night
where it's quiet
like you should be.

one by one, pull back towards yourself
the orbs of energy you've left
bouncing around you in the
atmosphere.
be their chalice
one last time
and watch them burn out.

and when you're reduced to
dying ashes and deathly whispers
a strong voice will suddenly falter
and they wonder -
*didn't we once know a ... ?