dissect me.
pick me apart
in hopes that what
you find buried inside
help you understand
what little pieces
come together
to make who i am

"Dissect me,"
I say to you
in desperate attempts
that it would help-
but you were never
one for science

I left it all up to chance,
because you never came
with a recommended serving size.
a sunset hanging from a string
and a handful of bad intentions.
love, death, adventure and a little
something in between — the
Calm before a storm. yet your brooding eyes
are filled with lost dreams and broken hopes
Because you make me feel like dirt
and i had a debt to collect.
a guy like you should wear a warning;
an infamous king of thieves with the jar of hearts,
a tirade come to an end.

if souls were made of things like:
compassion, anger and bliss
ours would be of the same.

the way we find presence
is enough substance to withhold a friendship.
the use of playful impiety  
is a reflection of deep affection.
in which we take all these and use
them in the same doses.

and although science says nothing
of souls but of cells and pedigree
it was always about how
differences brought things together
and our similarities drove us apart.

our bodies cave to the commands of science-
it's no surprise that the rules of attraction
bow down to it as well.

they say:
age is but a number,
distance is but a scale,
and time is of an essence -
yet i find their concept to be suffocating.
confining as it bends me to it's whims.

age is the number that decides who our friends are.
splitting us apart by birth dates into
elementary, middle, junior, high and college -
sending us away to embark on different paths
while others are left behind.

distance is the scale that determines how often.
when can our presences linger with one another
and at what lengths must we cross?
cities, state lines, rivers, countries, oceans -
at what point is the distance too wide to close.

time is the essence that destines if at all.
where schedules collide and overlap,
timezones over riding the possibilities.
seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months -
they all pass with one of us always a head of the other.

and as we move on with our lives, i see that
i use these as excuses of why we have drifted
instead of facing the facts;
perhaps we were never that close to begin with
as our memories turn to grey.

i am much
like the moon
over a quiet city with a light
very dim but still
ever so slightly radiant
yet nothing compared to what
oversees the busy city that bathes
underneath the brightest light
they have known -
other lights shine brighter than the moon
not much outshines the sun, but
you can still see the moon against the blue

He reminds me of faces I've
left in the past that I haven't seen before.
His voice is like an old song on
the radio I've never heard before.
He's a memory I've never made
catching up to haunt me.
It's not December but I can't help
but think it will all end the same.
Is this a second chance
or shall I ready the goodbye?
I face the future with uncertainty
cause people like you are hard to find.

here's to being honest
on how a broken heart works

it's two in the morning
and all my thoughts turn to
the only boy i ever
fell in love with

and even though I
have somone waiting
on me

my thoughts turn to my
first love
who never loved me
like i wanted him to

gave me so much
to remember him by

and taught me so much
like how to love
even when love won't work

i judge you
and i know this is
unfair of me to do so
considering that i call you
a friend
and you to i -
but you go around
and you act as if
you havent been admitted
to as school only some
dare to dream about
one the cost so much
you and i would always
question as to why
you stay up late doing work
you couldn't have bothered
to do before - all nighters
that make you late for class
or not show up to at all
i know it is shameful to
judge a friend like this
but if tables were turned -
i know you would, to i.

i remember late dark nights,
you'd rest your head on me
and ask if you could fall asleep
as we walked down empty streets -

fake glares and sarcastic tones -
'am i that idle to be referred
to as nothing more than an item'
as you refer to me as a pillow

soft wines and pouty replies
you'd rest on me anyway, but
baby, let's be honest;
i'd be your support any day

i am so hopeful
yest so unhopeful
all at the same time

it's like that light
that you see
that tells you everything
will be okay
is like the sun on
a cloudy day;
it fades in an out
dimming and brightening

like a lightbulb
hanging on a thread -
hanging on to life

like a car
racing down
the free way
at two in the morning
the moments of darkness
after the faint moment
of brightness
as we drive under
street lamps.

i am so hopeful
and so hopeless
and i sway
like a pendulum
unable to find
a healthy balance

i sat in class today
and thought about
walking you home
because of all those days
that you walked me
in the brutal harsh
winter weather
and left me at my front door
watching as you walked away

and then the sadness hits me
hits me hard in the chest
and my heart drops
and i feel the need to cry

i suppose it's in the want
to hurt you voluntarily
when you walked me home
out of kindness -
with no knowledge that
i'd hurt watching you walk away

but i guess, all i hope for
is that you have that
unanswered feeling of sorrow
as you watch me walk away
in hopes that you feel for me
what i feel for you

I am nothing more than a moon
who sits in the night sky
just waiting for the day i find a sun
that wont wash me out
against the blue.

he listens to the treble of her voice—
and the silent ghost of the sounds that
fail to make it past her lips;
wanting nothing more than to dissect
the words of woe that weigh her heart
with a bitter aftertaste, like a
liter of ***** on a friday night,
because words were never made
to be swallowed whole and love
was, in no way, ever meant to be simple.
as the minutes go by he comes to
recall that despair is never a constant

Baby, it is cold outside
but I don’t want to go home.
Winter wasn’t made for memories
and moments weren't made to last.
Keeping Christmas-safe each city block
for I am almost done ageing.
a possibility made of glass,
a relationship never made to last.
Please, don’t let me down.
you once told me, to believe that
winter was a wonderland
but death would be a great adventure.
I find it hard to write;
these memories will never fade.

You made a wish
And you told me a secret
That forever changed us.
Then life happened
And you made another wish,
To know me better.
But the thing about wishes
Is that they never come true.

You were the wisher
And the thing about wishes
Is that when you wish on emotions
Everything goes wrong,
And then the magic goes away.
The thing about wishes
Is that you have to give something up
To make these wishes come true.

You were the wisher
And I was a dreamer,
And the difference between us
Is that that dreaming is believing
And wishing is wanting.
Dreams are for the mind,
And wishes are for greed.

I am a dreamer with an imagination
You are a wisher with needs,
I could never fulfill

I am a dreamer
Who's dreams
Didn't need a guy like you

I spend sinful nights
Thinking of you
Because I know it's wrong
When I have someone waiting
On me

But it's hard you know
To forget your first
That gave you so much
To remember them by

You're like my second
Star to the right
My lost boy who's so
So childish
Yet somehow
So mature.

But I think it's just
Wishful thinking
When I wonder if
I pop into your head
When you're trying to sleep
Like you do for me

Just so wishful because
I just really wanted to be
Your best friend
And maybe even
Something more


They say people who are meant
To be together
Will eventually
Be together but then again
That's just some
Wishful thinking

please do not tease me
with pretty words
and beautiful phrases

i take them in
like a parched man
scampers at the sight
of water

i marvel over them
much like humans admire
sunlight through
stain glass

and i cherish them
like a mother does
her first born
and hold them
close to my chest

do not tempt me
with kind words-
i'll start falling
as soon as they
fall from the
gap between
your lips

I'm hard to handle;
like a shot of *****
I burn on the way down
and only some will come back
for seconds –
because my kindness
does not make me
easier to swallow.
I'm an acquired taste
for a specific breed.
No one can take me
in large doses,
a teaspoon a day
goes a long way.
Alcohol never came
with a recommended
serving size.
I'm a glass of water
in disguise –
so please,
drink slowly.

i let truth bleed from my heart
as i sprawled words across the page
i let my secrets out in riddles
in hopes that someone will
understand what i have to say

I’ve never seen stars until I left the city
Far from those over lit streets that went in for miles
I spend nights outside under the clear skies
Staring at lights that burned out years ago
It’s been a while but I’ve never seen one fall
Like I have under city lights
He was like some miracle, that boy;
Shot across my sky like a shooting star
As I stood under the blazing sun
And I have yet to see him burn out.