in my nightmares you sport black shirts with the collars rolled up and red sleeves for misunderstood stories. i have silver chains and a purple heart because of swallowed rocks and sold out moons that melt when the galaxies start exploding. at 2:47am we went out for coffee at that cheap gas station store and left the cliffs to the colours of an April sunrise. "the bird's eye still doesn't see everything" you said, and its stamped on my cheekbones. every time red blooms through the sky i see roadmaps to Windsor where those playground swings still reach for more of our memories but eventually they get burned down too

Name all the reasons you stayed at the dark hotel without
Wearing those silver rings that never seem to come off your fingers otherwise
What made you want to move south to cold air and a lack of clothing lines?
The lonely roads on the map of out town spell out your name
But I can barely say it and each traffic light blinks out into the city
The way you eyes do when you’re feeling uninspired
I know you haunt bus stops
What did block parties and fairy lights do to make you pack up?
Summer popsicles melted over your legs and left marks that resemble fireflies
We used to catch those in Emery Forest when 2:16 am called but now
I pick up the phone and only grasshoppers chirp
They tell me that you took my light with you and no
Sort of sun will tell you where you need to be but your own.

Pacific seas hold diamonds in their palms but one time I had a race with a tiger and saw melting rubies hidden in these forests littered with letters of lies engraved into tree trunks, thank God we wrote ours on leaf veins and never thought twice about forever even when remembering 10:34 am and raspberry yogurt breakfasts, do your headphones still drill you the same stories drowned in beats? I named eclipses after you and the stars started shining brighter, the sound of your name makes me lighter and I see sparks, forget nostalgia even when it is 12:07 am and I forget what it’s like to have a heartbeat float in silver petals falling from the colours in your ever changing eyes. You brought the feeling of gold so pardon me when I can't swim in pacific waters.

You’re gliding on ice that’s sprouting
Flowers like the freckled mountaintops down south
But you haven’t noticed the red that’s started to cover
Spreading on the bottom of your plate
If you did this with fire maybe you’d still be alive
But this is a new kind of electricity angled towards you
Like the stroke of a brush that whistles
Something that sounds like letters
And open doors at the end of mile long pathways
You are an exit route not a fire escape
Does your mother know why you keep empty water bottles
On the desk by the back door and not the one by your bed
Swearing that you are sinking into tides that keep you afloat
I saw the run rise in your eyes once
The yellow and green awoke something in your smile
And a streetlight’s glow burned out
Coated in silver, immersed in purple petals
Yet the plastic stuck in your throat
Is lodged between adventure and fear
And you don’t want to jump

Door’s open, walk into a hallway to cinnamon scents
And broken candies scattered on the table
I felt all your rays beneath the beats that brought me home
Back to gas fire places and engraved wooden floors
In these panels you kept secrets that telephone calls cannot decode
And we’re thunderstorms again
Through letters and postage stamps you learned that
Bones and old maps of veins don’t like being set on fire
In waters made of dust particles and stale sunshine
You could be planting exit signs on the stones you trip over
And the words you burn under your tongue
Silver coated and kissed with burning coal
You missed a step but this is your firewood
Just remember to take your lighter with you the next time you leave