A poem falls short; I'd like, instead
to draw a single line from me to you
and watch it curl into a word
so beautiful it's still unsaid –
or press paper to the window pane
so that the day might saturate
a note that brightly warms your hands,
spills birdsong from imagined trees
and buzzes like fat bumblebees,
but I am bound by language, love; I can't.

Please stop playing games
isn't my heart bruised enough?
have I not bled rivers
for you to bathe in?

“I am not a toy”
and when you twist the knife
I feel it

I need peace
and your song
keeps me swimming
to the deep end of despair

Please stop laughing
once you've made me cry
these tears taste like oceans
and I am more than ready
to drown in them

Buried under all the empty bottles,
And broken hearts
Lied a girl with one to many thoughts.
As she tried to find the answers
At the bottom of a glass
She ended up drowning
Deep into her past.
And she couldn't help but throw back
A mix of all her regrets
And feelings
In one big cup of what she called
Her last.

The sun is a star in someone else's sky
The earth is a dust fleck, drifting on by
The moon is nothingness, just barely there
Between non-existence and thought caught on air.

Maybe you're nothing, and then so am I
But to me you are everything seen by these eyes.