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I wont be your cigarette
you wont have me and be done
but I will be your sack of ****
get you higher than the sun

I wont be that **** you flick away and run
but I will be that line that gets you by
and you will do me twice just for fun

I will have you sweating
I will have you begging
you can call me molly
then we will have our wedding

garage, sundress , open bottles I can confess
broken smiles, sad sleeps, I will be your worst dream
you wont puff puff and be done
you wont pass because you will want me till there is none
I will be your sweet addiction
I will be your lovely conviction

I will be the reason your prescription gets written
The last taste on your lips
the sun will forget
but I wont be your cigarette.
i always thought
you were thru traffic
that you were just jet lag
background noise
the kiss in the rain
i've never had
but what if you aren't?
what if this
was the thousandth time
i have loved you?
what if this is just a fresh coat of paint?
what if god
keeps a handkerchief
soaked in the day we met
next to his bed?
maybe theres a reason
i reach for no one in bed
the way i would
if someone used to be there
you know, they say
the road behind us
is littered with things
we couldn't hold onto
i wonder how many times
you've slipped through my hands
like hour glass sand
do you know
how much erosion you've caused?
i heard cupid
stopped keeping count
of how many times
we came together
just to come apart again
maybe it was just a rumor
it makes me think
about how many times
i've almost had you
like if all this talk
about history repeating itself
endlessly replaying is true
i wonder how many times
things have happened already
like the time
i tried talking you
into loving me back
back fired
or the time i could have sworn
jesus & lazarus were playing chess
with my heartbeat
but it was only you smiling
how many times
have i tried to tell you
how many times
have you read this poem
how many times
have i tried not to meet you
in my dreams anymore
it's like sleep tries to warn
me of what's happening
before it does but
i keep having this dream
where i tell you bedtime stories
and each one
is a different way you die
and in every one
i can never save you
it's like you're this song
i have on repeat
and every time it starts over
i forget the words
it's like you picked up the book entitled "us"
and the back cover
said you'd leave
so you never bothered reading it
tell me you aren't
going back in that bookstore
just to do it again
or will you tell me tomorrow?
or is this the time
you don't say anything at all?
if this has all happened before
if we call it quits
before we begin
again
from the beginning
i just want to ask you
to be my fire
because i am tired
of these old lives
and i'd like to see them
burn
Six years old and we thought we knew
How it would all turn out
But Prince Charming doesn't
Go through hell to find us
He doesn't love us more
Because we're not completely human
The beasts don't transform
Just because we love them
One kiss doesn't awaken us
We're never rescued from the Gustavs
The Jafars
Or the wicked witches
And there are never any happily ever afters
i wonder if i'll ever see
anything as breath taking
and self shrinking as the
sight i caught, looking at
the sun hiding behind her
with it's rays surrounding
her figure, highlighting her
champagne bubble laugh

the summer and i both
have a crush on her
we made a fire and went swimming. stayed outside till 5 in the morning. i think i was boring her while i soaked in the smell of chlorine and burning logs. i've never loved summer like this before, and i've never realized how fond i am of one of my best friends. both of these new likings could be very dangerous to my well being, and fantastic for my art. let's see.
You're a blood stain on a wedding dress and through countless bottles of bleach you still refuse to fade.

I scrub my teeth until my gums bleed, but I can't get rid on the feeling of your tongue in my mouth.

I'm scratching at my arms because I promised I'd never use a razor blade again but your hands were daggers that cut out my arteries and left me bleeding out while I  begged you to stich me up.

Your drunken eyes were bloodshot the night you drank so much you vomited blood, I took you to the emergency room, and in your hallucinogenic state you muttered her name, not mine, and I swore I would die that night.

My parents prayed and prayed to a god who turned the Nile into a river of blood that I would leave you, but I always had a hard time leaving a problem unsolved, and the blood that gathered at the surface of my skin in the form of bruises was my problem to solve, not yours.

The broken glass of your whiskey bottle left cuts on the bottom of my feet as I snuck out that December night, and left blood stains in the snow for you to find on Christmas morning.

As I clutch the photo of us all these years later it is my tears which splatter over our faces, not my blood.

My scars are innumerous, and so are the stars, and I would have given both for you to love me.

No amount of blood transfusions could replace what you took from me.

My A negative blood will never work for everyone but it is enough to save the lives of those bleeding out on operating tables with families begging for another day like I begged for you when you would have let me die.

I read in the newspaper today that you were found dead on the scene of some a drunk driving accident, drowning in a pool of your own blood, and I nearly laughed because finally the bloodshed you caused was over.
I am not a game
When you beat Me
There is no high score
I don't have extra lives
So don't throw My life away

I am not a toy
When I am broken
You can't just put the pieces back
Don't go out and replace Me
So please take care of Me

I am a human being
There is so much that can be done
There is so few that cannot be undone
you could almost see
ink flowing through her veins
and how she spread her words
across her heart
waiting for someone to
read them
and she may have been
complicated
but she had such
simple needs
but no one took her
seriously
and she let things
hurt far more than they should
because she truly cared about
people. everyone. everything
because it felt right to her
and she had no idea
how to be anything else
because sometimes she
wished she could
but if you were to pick apart
all these little pieces
and how memories always stain
then maybe you could
see something
special there
I stand there
With twittle by my side
Waiting for the others
Waiting to make the exchange

They come
High out of their minds
Threatening me
Tell me what I have is a lie

Their leader pulls something out of his coat

GUN

I hear twittle yelling something to me
but I cant hear what he says
my eyes only focus
on the barrel in front of me

Why I didnt run
is a mystery to me

BAM

I've been shot at before
I've been stabbed more times
then I can count

I felt the bullet go through me
I felt myself stagger to the car

Slump against it
trying to hold on

my vision blackening
around the edges

My hearing
disapearing

Is this what its like
To Die?

Twittle?
Where is he?
Will he be ok?

My strength leaves me
And I welcome Death
I got shot last december (12/6/13) through my right shoulder, Clean all the way through. I was rushed to the hopsital and it took them 5 hours to fix me up.
(this use to be my first poem on here but I accidently deleted it when I was trying to edit it my apologies)
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