there's a ghost in this house
& teeth marks in my tongue
from the times I've had to stop myself.
if you want me to walk with you,
put me in a greenhouse
so I won't complain about
the frigid air.
hold me close,
not when I cry
but when our eyes meet
and there's tears in mine.
and when I turn into
that ghost
when I become
hallowed out and dry and sick,
like a cicada;
(it will happen)
when my brain is reduced to
leftover spaghetti mush
and my eyes are glazed over
glazed like the cake I would never eat
if it's you, you can touch me

oh my God it's so cold here

my stomach drops at the sight.
who knew the eyes had such control over the body?
lungs frozen,
heart burning a hole through my sternum,
hands trembling.
hearing the story in pictures with no words
no commentary, no explanation
only Silence, only Assumptions.
your easy smile, given so freely
scares me into a corner where jealousy and doubt meet
fear threatens to asphyxiate me as i try to choke it back down
transfixing, magnetizing, beautiful, in ways that are only yours
i know others can see even if you cannot
and they will want you, as i want you.
and as i've said before,
one day you will tire of me
tire of my fear, my sloth, my sadness, and my emptiness
and she will be more of what you want.
she'll like the same things, have the same goals, be just as passionate as you, and share your love for debate.
she'll be better for you.
and until this happens,
i will fear its arrival with every posted picture.

There you are
Gracing your usual corner
With smoke and a smirk to match.
You are not looking at me,
And I smile, because for once
I know something you don't know.
My one secret, clasped like a golden nugget in my palms
Is but a grain of sand to your multitudes.

Looking down, something amuses you
And you take another drag.
Once again I find myself pining
To pick up a habit that burns my lungs, too.
Again, yearning
To be the cancer you kiss,
That you think of when your mind wanders and your hands ache,
To be carried like treasure in your flannel's pocket,
To be caressed between your calloused fingers.
I would burn for you, too.

But then you look more aware,
No longer lost to ineffable thoughts that are solely your own,
And I jolt back
Not wanting my moment to disturb yours.
I shouldn't be here,
Loving you from afar
Reveling in the way you lift your cigarette
Up to your hypnotizing mouth.
I should be nowhere, and nothing.

But I'm already gone,
Windblown.
And you pay no mind
As the leaves shuffle by your toes in the breeze.