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

I sigh a lot,
and my tears taste like the ocean,
and I don't talk very loud,
and I stutter a little,
and I am not very pretty,
and I am constantly tripping over air,
but,
I could love you with every bit
of my Awkward Little Self
if you would just give me the chance.

It's usually pretty easy to forget how much of a kid I still am.
I'm only eighteen, ****, why should I feel older?

I laugh when I stumble and before I know it
I'm usually picking myself up and speaking in chatplay (falls over and dies).
I have 69 followers and the fact always makes me grin.
I can't help but glance at your face and whisper to myself,
*"You make my heart go *doki doki."

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).

I don't know which seems further-
the distance in miles, or months?

You're so far away,
and it might seem cliche,
but I'll walk to you if I have to
if it means that you're okay-
and,
three years isn't that bad, right?
If I just keep talking to you at night
it'll be easy to pretend that
maybe we're both doing alright...

You know, you mean the world to me.
I don't even have to try to rhyme for you anymore
(seriously, those were accidents),
it just comes pouring out.
I can't wait for the day that I can kiss you and say,
"Hey, bb. We made it."

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.)

Can you imagine a life in black and white?
I wouldn't like to,
and greyscale never did expose the beautiful complexion
on which I planted fervent kisses
and meaningful whispers
hushed only with the lips of a soul
I can never seek to fathom.

And how would we see
the colors of our wounds?
The fangs of our demise
finding purchase in our skin
and draining all reds, blues, greens.

I think you bleed yellow,
and perhaps that is why you slit your velvet graces,
to find the happiness you know
is somewhere very
very
deep within.

"I can't wait to die."

It was my initial thought that these words were the scariest I'd ever heard
roll so easily from a loved one's tongue.
However,
It wasn't until more syllables fell upon
my once deaf ears
that I realized
Death isn't worrisome,
it is guaranteed.
What's got this shiver up my spine and is dilating my pupils
and causing my nails to hunt for blood in the sweaty earth of my palms
is the idea of the feelings I'd never cared to crave
and would unwillingly miss when my carcass was only that.

"I love you."

My pills are supposed to make me happy,
but I'm quite done pretending

(I'm a terrible actress, anyway).

Despair, despair, despair.
This world's without a care.

Nah, I won't do some dumb rhyme,
I'm just here to get my thoughts out.
I've got to worry about money, love, health...
It isn't enough just making it out of bed today.
I've got all these dreams, passions, ideals,
and no way to actually reach them.
Sure, it'd be fun to live apart from everyone.
Sure, I wouldn't mind falling in love.
Sure, everyone wants a job.

If only self-confidence and physical and mental capabilities were achievable
and anxiety wasn't my best friend.

God* knows I'm a (ship)wreck.

But nonbelievers do not sink.

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...

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.

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.

I tore a hole in my chest and realized
I never even had a heart, anyway.

Is this all you can describe us as?
Is that all we were to you?
I thought, perhaps,
I had stayed up until four in the morning
on school nights and on breaks
talking to you as though,
Mutually,
nothing else mattered.

I thought, perhaps,
when you told me to wait,
that you didn't have the time,
that it would be worth my patience
(Or perhaps my lack thereof).

I thought, perhaps,
that when I saw your face,
heard your voice,
listened to you chuckle,
woke up from a half slumber and saw you watching me,
some weird mix of admiration and love and lust and passion in your quirky gaze,
we meant something to one another.

But you've revealed the truth, and that's alright.
I can find another Lily in my pond.

You can breathe tonight.
Let no effort bring itself to your tired bones.
I will hold you, until the end,
and no demons will break through to
your porcelain soul.

Let sleep wrap you in its wings.
Dance with me in the stars.
Tonight you are alive,
and you will be tomorrow, too,
and that is glorious,
because this cramped universe
is pure emptiness without you.

Let it be noted, that,
I am one who seldom seeks the presence of another being.
Fortunately,
you are no other being
(I believe you are a part of me).

Tomorrow, you will live on,
and I might not,
and that's alright,
but,
let it be noted, that,
you can still breathe.

I see you;
In the horses slowly trotting, riding along at the commands of their masters;
In the leaves clinging desperately to the vulnerable trees, left to the fate of the unrelenting breeze;
In the clouds drifting by, their shapes reforming at the will of the wind;
In the flowers wilting in the sun, screaming at their roots to find some source of water in this drought.

You go at the leisure of the ones who saddle your back,
and hold onto those hurt people, who angrily batter at your cowering form.
You mold yourself to others' preferences,
and are crushed by your god, looking for some hope he may have left you in this seemingly eternal despair.

I see you in my reflection, seeking some sort of break from an already fractured world.
You are broken and the world around you bent,
but there are ways to fix everything,
and I am studying to be a Mender.

She doesn't know how to make you happy.
She doesn't have the ability to wrap her arms around you and whisper in your young ears that old women are strangers.
She doesn't know how to kiss your tears away because the ocean terrifies her and you taste like saltwater when you bask in the sun.
She doesn't want to watch you suffocate but it's hard to let you breathe when she needs oxygen, too.
You are sunlight and glory and an inescapable breeze in winter but to her you are fragile and have broken too many times and she's running out of super glue.

Maybe this doesn't make any sense, but neither does her head
neither do you and neither does she
cause you aren't a single thing she knows what to do with
yet she can't find it in her to let you go.

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.

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.

If I take your hands into my own,
quivering,
and tattoo your skin with kisses,
passionate,
do you think you'll fall in love with me?

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.

Empty hallways, crowded streets.
I always wanted to grow old,
but I never wanted to grow up.

Why does leaving mean forgetting? I can already feel them all slipping away.

I don't want this to be over
but I've never seen a better ending.

You told me you could tell the sky, "Goodnight,"
and the earth would whisper, "Good morning."
Home always felt like your coffee breath stirring the hair in my face
and your hand gripping mine when I strayed too far.

You asked me what I thought of God and I said she was beautiful
and you placed a kiss on my cheek, pressed your scarred palms to mine, and told me,
"Yes she is."

When I told you I was scared you told me that demons are everywhere but angels are immune.
I felt better.

Winter was never cold with you around.

I'm too weak to admit that I'm not enough for you.
I hate my inability to dry your tears and be there when you need me.
If nothing else, I just want to be able to turn
your every frown into a smile bright enough
to put the sun to shame.
Maybe you could cure fatal diseases with that laugh of yours.

I just want you to be happy,
for us to float amongst the stars together and travel the galaxy
with our fingers twined and squeezing
and our words trailing comets.

Just smile, baby.

Treading softly with fingers on your skin
our eyes locked on one another
gotta go soon, can't stay too long
every second with you is time well spent
though, I wonder if you feel the same
hearts beating as one
eventually we'll give in to
reduced sleep and nights spent drawing lazy circles in our wounds

From dusk til dawn
one thought on my mind
recoiling at the thought of anyone else
everything is you
various ways to ask you the same, but
even I can't figure out how, instead just
reveling in the way you say my name.

My ear hurts.
That's nothing new.
You're beautiful,
and that's old news,
but I'd listen to it every day
with this bleeding mess on the side of my head.

I'm cramping.
Guess it's that time of the month.
But I love you every time of the month,
every day, every hour, minute, second
breath

Heartbeat.
It sounds in my veins and reminds me of you,
lingering under my skin and keeping me alive.

Beat.
Beat.


*Beat.

Strip the flesh from my bones
and make from it a carpet
to better walk all over me.
Craft from my skeleton
a little cage for birds
and allow them to assist in your
defilement of me.
Feed my organs to the Lion
so that I might keep Him at bay
and allow for your further escape.
Bury my soul amongst the stars
and I can water your garden with my tears
(I've always wanted to give you life).
Cast my memories aside
and fill my mind with your own,
because my thoughts should be about you, anyway.

**** you and your conscious actions,
eliciting dreary moans from an already enervated alias.
you, who once exhilarated me,
now the cause of my exasperation,
will one day be the most glorious cause
of my most hideous downfall.
can i name your shortcomings, at least?
one, you take too long to make me cry.
two, no one ever told you to be so ******* quintessential.
three, can i hold your hand? no, it is too faultless on its own, i shant sabotage your look.
four, your facade is growing tired. make a new one. i like the expressions that dance on your face.
five, you knit your brows in a way that resembles a calf.
i cannot express more than five-

oh, hell, were those even flaws...?
**** you and your olive flesh
(so smooth, as if ivory)
and your cocoa eyes
and your coffee-stained teeth
and the way you praise God
as if you actually know Her

Sleep has avoided me for hours
and I'm sorry about my feelings for you.

For wanting someone who hasn't
a single degree of romantic inclination towards me;
My best friend, of all people.
Maybe it's my fault that you're flawed enough to be the one thing
I need the most,
a downpour during a drought,
and I'm sorry for that,
too.

I just can't help myself
when it comes to loving you.

This mare will not heed-
she was meant to succeed!
Power on, don't let your confidence waver,
tomorrow may bring something greater!

I think I could get used to waking up beside you,
and following the catlike curve of that smile
on your celestial canvas
with a trembling brush.
I could paint you in the evenings,
and watch as you colored the world with
such a vibrant palette of a voice
and explained to me the things you love
with the most vivid of words.

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.

It's not so much a longing as it is pure curiosity,
but there's no need to reopen closed wounds.
Sugar soothes my scars, but you're salt,
and we were meant to fall apart eventually.
So, I will call some neutrality
(this is my doing so),
because we all **** up, and I've no ill will left to poison anyone with,
and I will be here if you ever need me.

Fire is wicked
and my heart's set aflame-
over the water, no less,
it's an effortless game:

I win, you lose,
and we play again,
it's no matter of what we choose-
it's how we grow akin
to shadows, long, and days, so dreary
you'd think our wrongs were growing weary
(they aren't).

What a shame, this game
without an ounce of fame to your name;
but mine's a-shine, and I am fine,
and you still lie your head by mine.

This is my final part in our game of
Tug of War.
I guess we'll talk again
when she stabs you in the back.

Note that, when you change your mind,
my thoughts shift, too,
perhaps not always in a way too kind,
but, at least they still center around you,
and that is good enough for the both of us.

O, You,
who stole my heart so long ago...
Where are you now?
I need you more than ever.
Maybe if we stay up together I'll forget
what makes me tremble at night,
and you can finally say
that someone got you something
for your birthday...

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?

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.

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

She is a saint bred by Lucifer.
She is a fortress in a hurricane.
She is a flashlight in a blackout.

How does she disappoint everyone else
when she is everything but failure to me?

I want your body pressed to mine so our hearts feel each other's beats.

My arms circled around your waste
and a kiss pressed to your face
a sound rhythm in our veins
I can't even begin to explain
You drive me crazy,
in a good way
I'd give anything at all
if it meant forever you'd stay
I don't think I have to, though
we're near tied together
A hundred minutes, weeks, or years
Any amount of time's forever
An infinity of our own
I can build a life around you
Pressing kisses to your palms
Pressing faith into truth
Matrimony? In time,
no need to rush it all
we've got forever ahead of us, darling
and I've already started to fall.

She is the reason I clench my fists-
another wave crashing against
an already broken ship.
Something held so fondly in the hands of
an ignorant little child
torn to pieces by belligerent claws
worn so elegantly by an otherwise
hideous temptress.

Oh, how you hate me.

I really want you to love me.
Or maybe it's just 3:33am.