"I’ve been thinking about it, too. And I really don’t think that it’s infatuation. Because people like us will never be infatuated. We can only feel three things; first, we don’t care at all. Second, Attraction. Third, Love, that is so deep he might drown."

Your fingertips held the heat of stars
Mine only knew the warmth of a flame
Your smile hid the smirk of the devil
I only knew the smiles of the ******
Your words were laced with poison
I was never one to request a taste tester

You were as angelic as you were demonic

The heart you held was left ****** and bruised
The memory of your smiles are engraved with burnt lines
Your last words are stuck on reply

"I still love you."

I was once complimented on my confidence
I replied I didn't have any
I was once complimented on my looks
I replied I wasn't much of a looker

For you see
This was the old me
Reluctant to believe the beauty of my being
I pulled at my skin and frowned at my face
For being anything but me was a sort of dreamy daze

People seemed to enjoy this

Now I smile at my reflection
Swoon over my photos
Roll my eyes at those who remark I'm conceited
Give a knowing and smug look at those who give me a second glance

Never before have I been so hated for doing something
I should have done a long time ago
But I shall die with vanity in which knows no bounds
Before I learn to hate myself with the passion of the fiery pits of hell once more

Does it take a genius
To recognize genius?
It doesn't take a fool
To know one when he sees one
And all the losers at school
Know who is cool
And the wise man knows
None of this matters

How sad must I make myself?
When petty annoyance turns to
dust, a swirl of caster oil on my
tongue, need I stab in infinite
direction for something to grasp
onto?

When does blood end and choice
begin? How much *** must I smoke
to stop paying attention? Do you want
to be here?

The answer is assuredly No.
I know because I know you.

You will numb yourself until the
little tiny hairs of your forearm
rise and prickle and beckon for
sunlight, escape from dark room
of blanket piles and ***** clothes.

Do you want to be here?
The answer is in the How.
Should I keep projecting or
wear my insecurities on my sleeve
like a good boy, feelings and
resolve and dedication to family?

Where did my poem go?
Does it want to be here?
Should I pull it up from the
ether, all hot ember and critique,
or might I let it flounder and
drown, all not together and
scatterbrain, best left on edit table
in drunken somberness and
existential envy, slow motion.

Do you want to be here?
I am asking for a friend.

For his eternal bliss,
And the happiness he seeks,
Is in the ruins he carries,
And the poetry he speaks.
He is bursting with words,
His heart shouting in pain,
He needs a reason to smile,
He needs to live again.
If he stays this way,
He will then die.
He carries too much pain inside him,
Its hard for him to survive.

I can type the URL to your blog faster than I can recall my own name and at first it was because I was desperate to find any trace of you that still wanted me, because oh god, did I still need you. But after a while, I didn't stop being sad but I stopped obsessing so much and I just wanted to see how you were doing and sometimes I wondered if you still thought of me. Not in the way that we used to think of each other, I know those days are long over, but the way you think of somebody when you listen to an upbeat song about how much you hate your ex for hurting you so badly. Because I know I hurt you and don't you dare think that you didn't hurt me too, but the wave of relief that came when I saw you blogging about how you hated me so much seemed to wash the desperation off of me that always seemed to cling like grass stains that faded but never quite came out even if I scrubbed until my hands were raw and shaking like the way I was about an hour after I had mustered up the courage to leave you. Then came the pictures, posted happily on your blog like she was the new paint, meant to cover up the chipped mess that remained of me. She may have stolen your heart, but I still have your virginity, its thrown into the back of my closet along with those pairs of shoes that seem like such a good idea to buy, until you realize that they're not the most well built, reliable things, and you really need to stop manic shopping and buying things on impulse. I haven't seen you since what would have been our two year anniversary and honestly I'm glad I haven't, because not a day goes by where I regret hitting you in your face with a baseball bat. But that's a story for another day. Now when I stumble upon your blog, its because i can't figure out how to block people from my account just yet and I don't miss you. When I see that you clearly have a new love interest, I don't miss you. When I wear the dress you bought me for my birthday, I don't miss you. When I listen to what was our song, I want to punch myself in the face for letting you ruin such a good Beatles song for me, but I don't miss you. And when I inevitably run into you again at future shows, I will not miss you.

the lights are off
it's time to wind down and swim away
wide eyed i peer into black nothingness
my thoughts taunt me
i want to relax and fall asleep with a humble smile

i'm lying beside you
i can feel your legs behind mine
and from the sound of your heavy breath
i know you've gone

i feel alone...

i talk to you
i tell you how much i love you
how you mean the world to me...
with rue my heart struggles from carrying this weight

i think about the things i've done wrong
my misguided naivete
the chances i missed due to careless negligence
and how fragile i've become from this soaked in sense of failure

i'm stripped down to nothing
i've shed the inane ignorance
it's not enough
i'm not enough
i fear it's too late
i want to give you a covetous life
my wants suffocate you

our heavy hearts are tied together like two fishes
something so intangible between us
how could we ever let go
this beautiful ethereal thing

a high order was made to bridge our paths
a relevant communion between the priest and the messiah
here to change the world selflessly
so similar in sentiment
so different in circumstance

drowning in passivity
black emptiness surrounds us
i love you i say
if only the meaning hadn't drifted away

We talk about the future like we've been there before.

Hope confidently,
Say it like you've seen it.
We're all wearing floral shirts but
We've never been south enough to
See real petals thaw.

The old have been there, but they're old.
Maybe they'll key into validity
When they know the
Instagram filters by heart-
Even then, times have changed.
This black and white future you've been to
Isn't the valencia filtered future on my map.

I do not ask the truth-
We all know that we know not.
I do not say stop-
We must pursue this light even if none have seen it.

I'm just saying.
Don't lie.
Find faith in internal fire-
Not the distant flicker you've found comforting to imagine at the end.

Don't sit around here,
Bullshitting.
It's ok to be scared.
It's ok to say that tomorrow is just a word-
And that for some it never will be more.
We talk about the future like we've been there before.
But right now we're here.