I’ll miss the polka music echoing through your home.

your little chair, whittled down and faded through the daily routine.

Prayer cards scattered about your pills and telephone.

You’d roll your eyes at Grandpa’s jokes.

You always wore pink shirts with flower designs.

I’d catch you smiling at me in unexpected moments.

Everything I wore was pretty in your eyes.

You’d tell me to bundle up and call you often.

You never failed to be silly with me.

I went to your house Grandma, and your chair was there,

everything in place but it felt so wrong.

My beautiful guardian and Grandma, I’ll love you forever in all walks of my life.

Stay by my side, I’ll see you soon.

-Your Granddaughter

In sallow faces and hearts beating fast
lies a dark abyss that will forever last.
That bones take home in seeping waters
Face the world and all its slaughter.
Truth takes the hand of death one   last    time.

And my friends are delicate even with steel breast plates and glass eyes that dazzle on nights where the moon comes out to join us.

And my friends wear crowns to show their worth but others forget that it tears into their skin making them bleed from beaten thoughts and overactive brains.

And my friends don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. Their hearts are trapped in rib cages beating melancholy tunes into themselves when life is bleak and time grows long.

And my friends can love into death the beauty of hands and flowers- the world on their shoulders and the photographs in their skulls breed truth and hope in people’s good intent and adventure.

And my friends are a whole other universe strung with the same thread that can’t break because their soil is strong and their garden nourishes all.

And my friends are timeless, classic, radical souls that leave your house painting crooked and your eyes wide.

And my friends don’t know that. But now they do.

We can't speak.
So we use our tongues instead.
Soft exhalations, I breath you into me.
If my body wasn't poisoned with your liquor lips, I wouldn't have muttered....
I miss you.
****, I miss you.
The days pass faster with your presence far into the forest of our past.
Where we remain until
you whisper
those three
little
syllables.

The truth is, truth hurts.
It especially stings in the corners of old dirt covered scars.
The ones you concealed from your eye sockets.
The truth is, lies are easier to believe.
The lies you strung out over soul topics.
You are afraid and you are a coward.
The two things you tried so desperately to dodge.
Realizing you are a source of pain makes all tasks heavy.
The truth is, I became lies while thinking I was truth.
Maybe one day I'll throw up my cigarettes and broken heart pieces so I can finally heal.

You've got a pale mind and skin to match.
Misery still wet on your lips.
Don't shy away from the sun darling-
It with it's horizon will broaden yours.
It's time to stop showing your scars
But to restore your golden glow.
We're all cowards at something in our heads.
Heads filled with endless delight.
Heads filled with drowning corpses.
But
Our dreams-
Sliced the expectations of brainwashed bystanders.
Intertwined with poison and passion can show us-
Love
Will
Always
Survive.

I never loved you, I didn't dare.
Your forsaken heart is not for me to spare.

You'll tell me don't return dear
Our conquered love will die here
and so will you
to me.

Erasing every hand track
I'm never going to come back
to before summer came.