I've come to the intersection of
false law and steal bolt spines
My blood keeps pumping kerosene
and my lungs can hardly stutter
but they still beg me to breathe
No one ever tells you when it's
a good time to break and the last
time I tried to swallow it was a
handful of rispodol and my brother's
fingers down my throat
I woke up in January with a father
and the seams to my soul
But now I have neither and they
ask me to be still
I could count the apologies I
ever got from both on one hand
and none were from this man
They tell me to write because it
gives voice to my speech but I
found the library of my mind in
ashes when I asked for a plea
And I don't know if maybe she just
gave up on me or us both
But I've left laders outside my
window for all the hands that couldn't
hold me and all the lips that never
mind to tell me why
Does one bleed at the knees for a
shoulder to sleep or do I blister my feet?

They will write entire novels based solely on your eyes, create depths of intangible intimacy that can only result in displacement.

You will come to know of death before death.

They will dip their fingers in your blood and paint diagrams of love across your chest. You will transform into artwork, a selfish inspiration.

On nights that end in benevolence, they will be too frightened to speak; and you will never understand.

You will learn how to break, but more like waves and less like porcelain.

They can feel agony far beyond your compression. Your silence will be substance for extinction, *and a poet never forgets.

"Can I offer you a drink sir?"
He didn't flinch,
Reacting with such demur.
He resembled grief to the last inch.
Maybe he didn't hear me.
"Sir? In need of a whiskey perhaps?"
Maybe it needn't be,
But it seemed as if he was ought to collapse.
Cigarette slipped between his teeth.
Leaking wounds along his hands.
I soon noticed the blade beneath.
I knew then that he is one who understands.
His head stayed down,
Hidden behind a defence of stubble.
Long last, he came around.
"Make it a double."

You must understand

                                        My friend

That I    never    wanted you to save me

                         I never meant to bring you down into this hole I had created

          I never wanted you to drown in the undertow I had predicted

                                         I do not mean to be your anchor and take away your breath

       I never asked for you to save me

I never wanted a reason for life

I just wanted you to listen,          and maybe understand

               But if you don't yet, let me try

I may be dying everyday

But so are you

                                          And sometimes I forget how easy it is to make you cry

And sometimes I forget that you actually truly care

             But I am doing just fine down here

And your reflection in this water is more than I need

          Do not try to save me, my love

Because you'll only **** yourself

                                          Just be there when I am wet and cold

And be there to dry my eyes

You are not responsible for my suffering

You are not responsible for my death

       And I know that it still hurts you
       And knowing that hurts me too

But please, do not try to save me

          This is my battle, and this is my war

              So stop worrying about me

Because I know that I will win

              And I want you to be there with me when I drown this little monster

And I want you to be there with me when I go out for drinks after

I woke in a room of frost, with cold lips
I ache to hear your voice
But as I maneuver my sleepy body
I'm reminded that you're here
Curled up in silk, perfect mounds of ivory flesh
I lean across to kiss you gently
I watch your breath hasten, and fight the numbing urge to wake you
To graze myself along your chest
So I found myself writing this instead
The thunder seems to be clearing
And my pulse is dying out in gulps
I lower my head defeated, in hopes you will forgive me
And kiss your forehead once again to wake you

It hurts when you're dying inside
And when you're slowly running out of places to hide
They tell me it's all worth it
Maybe in its time
But all good things must come to an end
There is on bright light around this bend
Only the suffering stays
So don't you dare tell me this is just a phase
Where is my sweet release?
Don't tell me it's under this blade
I deserve peace
My very soul has decayed
There has to be more than this
Where is my saviour to pull me from abyss?
Tell me why it *hurts so much
Tell me why it won't leave me be
Tell me why there are days when I crave its touch
Tell me why it craves my debris
Please, make it stop!
Please, make it go away
*How loud must I cry?
MAKE IT GO AWAY!

I want to see god. I want to know what god feels like.

He spoke in a rough gruff of a voice, trying to hide his disintegrating stability. His neck was moist, appearing to have lost the capability.
"Rosy, my dear, what do you find so grotesque about love?"

"It's not love, it's what love does to you,"
She responded without hesitation. Evidently hiding her deprivation.

He sank into his ribcage, tactically turning air into mist.
"Then tell me, what is love?"
He latched on unwillingly to the idea that their thoughts could coexist.

She shut her eyes in dismissal and bit her lower lip, clenched her jaw real tight
"To tell you the truth Vincent, I don't quite know. I've tried desperately to understand it, with all my might. But I know that it isn't love if you don't collapse into the palms of another like an unstable building when they touch you."

"Be weary my dear, your humanity is showing."
He said with a slight gust of laughter. As if his sarcasm is bestowing.

"Remember that day in July, when a butterfly landed on your hand? And you picked it up and pinned its wings? You do that with everything, you know.
And truly, it stings."
The words lunged from her throat like a long awaited confessional, done by a man sought out by death. Because the concept of peace is obsessional.

"You know that I'd never keep you from flying. I'd never make you choose a cool winds breeze over a life spent in my cage. I wouldn't stand to hear the tortures of your crying."
He swallowed a hard lump down his chest.
"You showed me where to look amongst the gardens and the graves. You pointed out the masters and you pointed out the slaves."

She slid out of her identity into something more comfortable.
**"You must understand, my dear, you are beautiful but you do not mean a thing to me. Love can never be interminable."

Where the daisies grow tall
And the birds sing in perfect harmony
That's where you'll find us
Tucked in sweetly beneath the silver skies
Hands entwined
And bodies holding tight
We'll stay there forever
He'll stroke my hair
And I'll trace his scars
Tranquil and content
I'll love him always