theres empty spaces between your fingers that fit Oh So Perfectly with mine.
you are too easy to love, and easier to lose.
i would do it all over again.

what do you give someone when they already (think they) have the universe?

some people are not meant for this world,
and that's okay.

This isn't a poem;
But it's hard not to miss some people,
when you see things that remind you of them,
when shows play that remind you of them,
when songs stream that remind you of them,
of their voice,
of how you used to be...
I wish things were the same.
Maybe they can be the same.
Maybe I should stop holding on to memories
(but they're all I have).

One time I held you
with the grip of a lost child
and you let me go so swiftly,
I realized then that I really don't matter
as much as the next lover
(I guess I am a bit of a *******).

I want to be the one that makes you happy;
I know I can never make your eyes light up like that.

I want to feel your body against mine, in some perfect rhythm that orchestras can only dream about;
I know that someone else will fit your mold better than I can.

I yearn to be the one to hold your hand on chilly days set in between autumn and winter;
I'm scared that you'll let go again.

I want to love you like I never had the chance to;
I remember I won't be able to break that threshold.

I want you to be mine;
I remember that I am always yours.

i want to scream from a mountain top that i am done with everything
but i am in a wasteland and there is nothing on the horizon around me and i do not have the strength to get there

i want to start living but more than that i want to stop breathing i want to forget and move on and not be hindered by these weights but they told me anchors are supposed to be good things they told me that i will not be swept into the ocean but they never told me about the tsunamis that crush the foothold and drag you to the bottom and leave you there to die they did not tell me that i would want to be embraced by the earth that will inevitably cover my corpse when i have left my body because i am already dead and there is nothing more and i am done fighting i dont know how to swim any more i dont want to see the sky because the sun is not inviting when it burns my skin and the rain is cold but in the ocean everything is constant and i could use the silence

what do you tell yourself when you know you're inferior
i'm surrounded by gods who make art from their pain
they can write, draw, sing, pluck strings
do they know i'm special?
do they know i can carve promises into my thighs with a blade that's been more intimate with me than anyone i know?
do they know how much i ******* hurt because there's no outlet for my shame,
there's nothing to do when no one wants to love you.
what do you tell yourself when you want to give up
and there's no more comfort in wrecking yourself

I am not a Good Person
I will tear your heart out and stomp on it,
throw it to the dogs
let you watch the love drain from your own body

I am not a Good Person
I will love you and hold you in my hands
like a wounded bird
and I will fix broken wings
before I smash them to pieces once again

I am not a Good Person
and you will wind up hurt very soon
if you do not take your vessels and leave me stranded here
quaking in your absence

in the end i cant decide
if it is better to love another broken thing
or if it is even possible to love something that is whole

Worlds apart but we understand each other
We're not even together and we talk about a future that's set in stone
I can hold your hand from a distance but I wanna touch your face
Tell you how you've got me caught up in you
Well, that's not such a bad thing
Well, you're not such a bad thing

I think I could get used to this
(I already have)

Sometimes I look at her and still think of home.
She ignited a spark in me and I had to stifle it:
wildfires never got me anywhere, and smoke lures the beasts.

Where do you go when you're posing for your demons?
What shadowless space is left in your head, inviting you to stay for a while?
I would think of her and they ran, still lurking but never touching, yelling from afar.
But a lack of refuel muted the engine and caused me to stutter,
things can only go so far when you're running on empty.

I learned to never regret but it's something else entirely,
walking through your home when it's empty and waiting for someone else to move in.

Hypocrisy is buried deep in your bones,
nestled between the promises you kept tucked into your skin
and the charm you held on your tongue.
"Don't hurt them," you said,
"Don't hurt the ones who care about you
and leave them for someone who doesn't give a ****."

Well, Lovely,
see how the tables have turned?
I suppose you figured out that 'evil' spelled backwards is 'live.'

i. twilight on the mountaintop

ii. say I've got room for two in this coat
sharing warmth, but it's more than convenience

iii. does kissing ward off the cold? let's find out

vi. your cheeks look like fire but they're too soft to burn

v. I wish these gloves weren't separating our skin

I went brick by brick to keep out the demons
but you tore them all down.

Walls aren't demolished for just anything,
and you plucked them all by hand,
one by one til we could press our hands together
and touch at the tips of our
breath.

Every time I visited you, I tried to count the windows.
You never let me finish.
I never got to start.

So maybe I expected a bit more from being exposed, some kind of compensation,
maybe I haven't got a right to be angry
( I'm not, but do I have the right? ).

Maybe I just want to see you as more than what you do.

Don't get me wrong,
I know I'm always quick to flip to Revelations
It's just that decisions are best when made overnight- or, that's what I've been taught
And maybe that's wrong and I should slow down
But you'll be on my mind til the end of Time, anyway

I remember your taste better than my own name

There's nothing I'd wish for more
than for the scent of your sun-kissed skin
to wake me up in the mornings
while you murmur my name in your sleep.

One day the moon stepped aside for the sun to take its place.
Apollo had never been bashful, but he dug his heel into the dirt and swore you were the center of the world.
Quite frankly, my dear,
It was only a matter of time before I was drawn to you.

and it's not just you, or everything that you do,
it's not that i'm never high, or that i don't appreciate drops of sunlight on cold days,
but every step is fighting an earthquake and i'm struggling to stay on my feet
and it's too much to ask if i want to take a breath while i'm in (anyone's) space

I can't dream when I sleep with you
because you make my mind all fuzzy.

I can say, very easily and without exaggeration, that every godforsaken moment I don't hear your voice or see your face is pure agony.

She's the rhythm in my dance,
the reason for my choreography.
Everything I do is in her name.
No universe is complete without her
(she is the embodiment of all life):
I am not complete without her
(she is the reason in my mind).

It's not even about you.

It's fire scorching everything in your path,
the way you command attention from everyone without saying a word.
It's starshine in your eyes,
how you can make the worst things sound like they've been made of velvet,
how you could snap my heart in two and convince me it was a good thing.
It's the seduction,
the growl in your throat when something you want is just within reach,
when you don't make promises and I still expect you to deliver,
but you're still a ******* god when my expectations exceed everything else.

It's about how you love,
how you could suffocate me with your two hands,
and I'd still waste my breath on you.  

It's about the way you noticed me,
how it was only for a moment,
and I'm still enamoured.

Sounds specific to dying engines,
picked locks,
or waves lapping at the surface just above your head;
The feeling of the earth crumbling below you,
the tremor caused by a far-off explosion,
or the way black holes will lure anything into their grasps.
The way any noise can make you jump,
the mention of someone causing your breathing to quicken, your pupils to dilate, or your hair to stand on end.
Knowing that there's no solution.

Wound in Hades' cold grasp,
brought to asphyxiation by his fingers,
I can feel the universe crumble away as the edges of my vision darken,
blurred,
and I call out for you.
I was always a fool for pretty eyes,
dimples, freckles,
tattoos and short hair,
and the kind of laugh that makes your hair stand on end
(in shocked delight, not terror,
though the way your heart begins to pound makes you wonder).
It's enough to say I'll cause my own downfall,
but I'll always give my last breath to whisper your name.

One had wise cocoa eyes and dimples like craters in his cheeks,
and spoke with such energy you couldn't help but love him.
The other had hair like fire and such a perfect smile,
and the fervor in his voice was like taking your first sip of coffee in the morning.

Two pills later with droopy eyes,
Cinnamon aphrodisiacs,
Candles that smell like your skin when you bury your nails in my thighs and seek some greater vengeance,
Sun-kissed skin and the muscles of a lover (and a fighter,
because what is love without fighting).

Heaven in copper pools,
except I've never believed in God.

I remember being in third grade and wanting to hold her (freckled) hand.
She locked me in a bathroom on my first day of school, but we became friends anyway.
I didn't like her friends and she didn't like mine but we hung out anyway and it was time well spent because you don't talk to someone like her and continue to hate who you are.
She had dark hair that reflected the sun and curled in the wind
and she carried around a binder with a "K" on it so everyone would know how unique her name really was
(it was a very cool name).
Three months at that school and she's all I can remember.
I still wonder if she remembers me.

If you find thin traces of despair on my veins tomorrow mo(u)rning, will you still love me?

Slice a blade down my skin, make me an easel for your release.
Stamp your feet on my chest, use my cracked ribs as a doormat.
Rip out my teeth, I'm sure they'd make great confetti at the party for my demise.
Tear apart my heart and feed it to the alley cats. Use my intestines to make dessert.
Craft from my bones an array of musical instruments to play when you remember the joyous occurrence of my death.
**** me so slowly I feel every ounce of pain so I can remember how it feels to be alive before I'm gone.

When I hear your voice I can't help but smile, it's a natural reaction, we all need to embrace perfection.
I just want to hold your hand again.

Is it too much to ask for two more hours with you?
We didn't stay long but I can remember the way your hand fit to mine and the taste of your cheek from our rushed goodbye.
What kind of shoes do I need to wear to walk to where you are?
One day I'm going to wipe the hair from your face to reveal those gorgeous green eyes and revel in the emotions you try to tuck away.
Do you mind if I call every day to tell you how beautiful you are?
I might not always see your face, but I can never forget it when it makes my heart race more than a mile a minute.

Your taste is so unique,
some combination of something piquant, like peppers,
dull in comparison to the unmistakable flavor of sweet strawberries,
and it's so devilishly easy to plant cherry kisses on your skin
while your effortless groans are soaked up by whitewashed walls and cheap carpet.
I could write a novel about everything you do to drive me crazy
and I would call it...

She loved you once.
Once.
She doesn't know where the time went,
but you're yesterday's news,
and she's never been happier.

Thought maybe I've been running from the water this whole time
but it seems so friendly after last night.
Nothing else comes close to losing you
and that in itself is terrifying.
I'm beginning to wonder if wanting to hold you close at night
really is such a selfless act?

The day I can hold you to my chest and know you're safe is the day I'll finally be able to relax a little.

Tomorrow I'll be on my own again.

Say there's a place down the road
I can hold your hand and kiss your cheek,
steal a glance at a pretty face,
sell the heart of a hopeless girl.

Well, I want to the rule the world
if it means I get to dance with you.

don't take this personally,
I just don't want to go back there.
dirt and concrete never appealed to me
any more than your children's bad blood.
woe is you, though
if I try to leave for me.
clipped my wings so I'll never be free.
I'm not good at chess, but I make a good pawn.

Your voice, cinnamon kisses
Eyes- the sound of a wolf howling
Your every word sends a shiver up my spine
I haven't felt you yet but I know that when you say "I love you" I can feel every dip and curve of your body against mine and I've got you memorized
I don't know your taste but it already reminds me of the color salmon

You're my every sense,
my literal world

So many people die
just to breathe again.

Hold your hands in mine
Your smile lights up the sky
I think I'm in love

It is 7:19 in the morning and I want nothing more than to
wrap my arms around your waist
and pull your body to mine
and kiss your shoulder blade
and the back of your neck
and your cheek
and your hair
and it isn't enough to murmur your name every waking moment of my life
because I could be holding you instead
but there are
miles
and hours
and years
between us
and I know it's worth the wait
but, man,
what I wouldn't give to feel you right now.

Part your lips and speak my name
in a whisper so quiet the dead can't even hear it
because I want to know you're mine.
Come closer and tell me you own me
so I can pull you to my body and plant a kiss to your neck
and murmur my sins into your skin
because we're both going to Hell someday.
Drag me to my knees
and make me plead for you to stay
because you're too good for any saint
and I can't possibly worship you enough.

You're my sun and I want to ******* bask in your glow
like you're the only thing there and like you're all that I see
until there really isn't anything left.

You think you're something special
brought up under love and protection
taught to go and be free-
but Freedom does not come without seeking a reward.
Stuck on the streets or in rough situations
nobody knows your name or story, they don't care
get your job done and go home because the world doesn't want you until you can offer it something.
It's easy to find faith in another
so similar you are
working two full time jobs a piece just to make ends meet
in the same place an (armed) man was gunned down last week.
You don't know his name or story, you don't care
you just want to get your job done and go home because you don't want the world until it's offering you something
and you've found someone to share your burdens with.

A ray of **** sunshine on the outside,
no,
I'm a total b-i-t-c-h.
Addicted to hypocrisy,
I'll shoot my veins with moronic ideals til I'm high,
high enough to think that anyone could love me if they'd just try.

Don't ******* comment on my inability to speak sometimes,
it's not something I can help.
****** before I knew what it even meant
and you're surprised I'm in such poor mental health..
Overdramatic, maybe,
a bit more responsible than most,
I'd **** to make my enemies like me.

You, you're no better than me,
your heart's been dripping with sin
since you knew how to speak.
You've had it ******, too, yeah,
so you've gotta punch my face in.
Get it beat into our heads that we're never gonna be good enough,
well,
I just wanna be good enough.

I just wanna be good enough.

Maybe it's not enough to love you.
Maybe I'll give you my heart and you'll ask for a snack,
or I'll buy you a ring and you'll want a necklace,
or I'll get us a house and you'll decide you want a mansion instead.
Maybe I'll give you everything I have and everything I don't and it still won't be enough.

Or...

Maybe I'll give you my heart and we'll fall together so naturally you could swear we were meant to be,
or I'll buy you a ring and get down on one knee,
or I'll get us a house and we can start a family.
Maybe I'll give you everything I have and we'll be ******* happy.
(Maybe it's enough to love you.)