Every night you squeeze your pillow that comfort your sad thoughts
Every night your pillow hears your prayers
Inbetween Your flashbacks of the past
While whispering under the sheets
secrets told your pillow will keep
Every night you snuggle your pillow for security
Your pilliow is there to help ease the pain
A cushion to soften the strain
And collect your fallen tears
You will get through it
I know you will
sleep on it and think things through
Your pilliow can help you..

the dark eyed girl holding the needle is confused. why
would anyone want her eyelids tattooed?
i get it, i do--but it's barely a bruise, barely
a sign that they've ever been used--
and yeah, it's new--it's even strange
it's even enough to think me deranged
but i'm almost done, almost out of pain
almost completed the list of flaws under
my name.
my name
my name my name
my flaws make a laundry list worthy of fame
and they all knock about behind walls behind name
and i can't get them out without playing the game
so i tattoo my flaws on my skin on my pain
desperate for saving of name and of fame
stretched, wretched, falling, lame
too many rhymes and i'll ruin the game
too many words and they're all the same,
too many people are calling my name,
and i
and i
and i
and i
drooping in places, veils on my eyes
is this a disguise? am i beyond lies?
with truths on my neck and my nape and my thighs?
look at the skies.

silence is riddled with death and with flies
look at her eyes.

when roses sip poisonous drinks
do they poison our minds?

do poisonous drinks tattoo their mistakes
on their eyes?

When you think of me
how far do you think
when the idea of you and me
is placed on a map
waiting for territory to be marked

how far will you leave the permanence
to take up space that was once freedom
now shared
how many roads will be built
leading to us
if there will be any at all

think ahead for me
because thinking about forever
wouldn't be the same otherwise

drowning in a sea of stars and lavender

you fill my head with dreams of forests and our feet on ice

    you text me at 2 am and I pray I am the first thing on your mind

but I'm trying not to let my red string get knotted up in your fingers

   that you play so carefully with

we never speak about it
it just happens while we lay beneath the sheets
one hand moves to my hips, gripping me close to his, pressing himself against me
and then our clothes are off, and his lips explore my body, eyes focused and calm
mine are wide like the hesitant deer I am, my mouth open in a perfect little circle, noises releasing like smoke into the air
his moans are like music to me, but he is so quiet and his walls are built so high that it is impossible to break

i want to talk about it. i want to hear about his day and his mood, but i suppose his head between my legs will have to do.