lips so dry your crunchy words become combustible. my heart is made of fuel and my head gets heavy when i inhale the clouds in your beloved mind. bruised skin absorbs lies and that is why you never tell me that i look pretty covered in green. the edge of her smile cuts chasms deep enough to drown in when she cries out hidden onyx, but you still let her sleep on your side of the bed while i am gone. you beg me to leave, but no god can ever kiss my thoughts beautiful enough to love the man you have chosen to be. your heart ***** her poison like a love-sponge and i do not even care if you burn up in her veins. heaven is only an opportunity if you choose to be with boys with red velvet tongues and songs about forever

*(k.w)

i think of you too often. it has become rare to think of something else. i used to think of last summer before i met you. i used to think about long days on beaches i have never heard of before the very day i jumped into waves of sapphire. i used to think about the smell of sun lotion and jasmines and peppermint icecream, which still is my favourite flavour. we bought icecream last summer, mary and i, and dug our naked feet too deep in the melting sand and drank gin straight from the bottle and laughed our hearts out in the embracing summer air. i sighed a hopeful sigh as i let my body kiss the ground and i wished for never-ending summer days with mary at the mooring. we danced around the fire whilst holding each other's hands; we danced and danced and danced until our minds were all sore and then we watched the awaken sea turtles and fell asleep on the dock, hand in hand.

i used to think of mary before i met you, but ever since you bumped into my life, thinking of you has been blocking all other thoughts; thinking of you has been the baddest habit of mine. you did never ever leave.

*(k.w)

tell me that you do not love me with tears streaming down my cheeks; tell me that you do not want me anymore, but tell me that i am your pretty baby; that i am the prettiest one that your hands had ever touched; that i made you crumble; that i brought you the chills whenever you laid your eyes upon me; that i set your soul on fire every time you kissed my salty skin; that your friends got lost in my web of burning lies. i do not deserve you. you always treated me good. you brought me sparkling drinks in daylight and picked out colourful summer dresses for me for your mothers 60th birthday. she did not want me to come but you brought me anyway like a smitten kitten and you purred like one when you filled my empty stomach with toxic love and bubbles of laughter. you were too kind; you covered me in soft feathers and tickled my cheeks with your eyelashes, oh, your so black eyelashes. i was never good enough; you were too good for me. you made me hate myself whenever you were not around; every time i was all by myself i begged to be killed. i looked for orange pills in my medicine locker; the one i never told you about. the pills made me happy; they took me to heaven and made me cry. i wanted to cry, i wanted to be unborn like the thoughts of yesterday. why did you love me, i want you to disappear. you ruined my life, i love you beyond measure. why did you not leave me unconscious on the dance floor; i belong on the dance floor. i want to dance all night, all night long on my own. i want to drink my sparkling drinks, i want my glitter dresses back, i want loud music and fake laughter and charming men with rich fathers and lightbulbs of firework on the darkened sky. i want my heaven; i need to swallow the bottle of orange pills because i want you to disappear. i need you to disappear, but please do not leave me. i am the one who decides to leave. please, understand; i love you. oh, darling, i love you so. tell me that you do not love me with $100 mascara running down my cheeks. tell me that you do not want me anymore. you deserve someone who is not me. tell me that i am your pretty baby; that i am the prettiest one that you have ever loved.

*(k.w)

he told me i tasted like 12 o'clock sun on chilly days without names. since he mentioned days without names, they had been my favourite kind of days. in my head, every day had a colour and yesterday was yellow. you pulled over and got out of the car when i asked you why we could not buy another bottle of red wine for the fifth time. i looked down at my veiny hands and fondled the key that he had left behind. it killed me how everything reminded me of him. i thought that liquid self-pity would erase him but it only made him appear even more distinct. i tried to patch up myself when you was asleep; i kissed the freckles on your back and connected them by drawing constellations and celestial bodies with my silky whisper. i wore long sleeves because my heart was stained by his soporific words. he made me feel calm without effort; it made my skin crack. the way he held me tight made me want to throw up butterflies. you never made me want to throw up butterflies; you only drugged my body with sweet drops of poison. i am fond of you, you would always say and i would always force a smile and take another sip. he adored my blue lips. the more you loved me, the more i adored being intoxicated. after half a year, a few bottles a day made me love you back. i could name every débit de boissons in bordeaux.

hey kiddo, i have brought you a glass of my favourite wine.

he visited me on a chilly day without name. i was already dead when he found me.

*(k.w)

i get upset
when these thoughts
try to drown me
in a interminable ocean
of liquid mercury
because they does not belong to me

but then
i get even more upset
when it occurs to me
they did not belong to me
i have made them
mine

*(k.w)

for as long as i can remember, i have always told curious souls that i am afraid of the dark. it has always been my favourite excuse for keeping the yellow light on at night. but telling people that i was afraid of the dark was also a favourite lie of mine. i am not afraid of the dark, you see. actually, i am more likely to bath in moonlight than sunshine; i enjoy the silence of the night and i find comfort in the thought of having the night all by myself. the darkness that surrounds me has never made an attempt to rip off my pale skin

the truth is that i am afraid of unspoken words; i am afraid of the thoughts that enter my mind from the darkest corner of my subconsciousness when i am all swallowed by darkness. i am afraid of facing the fears of mine; afraid of accepting the heart-bursting pain that visits me on lonely nights. conclusively, i am just simply afraid of not being able to find beauty in onyx shattered worlds and my own imagination

it was never the dark

*(k.w)

those deep blue eyes of yours
make me want to unlock
all of your secrets
and explore all of the treasures
you hide at the bottom of your heart

*(k.w)