Forget his name
Forget his face
Forget his kiss
His warm embrace
Forget tge love once knew
Remember he has someone new
Forget him when they paly your song
Remember when you cried all night long
Forget how close you once were
Remember he has chosen her
Forget how you memorized his walk
Forget the way you used to talk
Forget the things he used to say
Rememeber he has gone away
Forget his kuagh frget his grin
Forget the dimples on his chin
Ftget the way

When life as opening buds is sweet,
And golden hopes the fancy greet,
And Youth prepares his joys to meet,--
Alas! how hard it is to die!

When just is seized some valued prize,
And duties press, and tender ties
Forbid the soul from earth to rise,--
How awful then it is to die!

When, one by one, those ties are torn,
And friend from friend is snatched forlorn,
And man is left alone to mourn,--
Ah then, how easy 'tis to die!

When faith is firm, and conscience clear,
And words of peace the spirit cheer,
And visioned glories half appear,--
'Tis joy, 'tis triumph then to die.

When trembling limbs refuse their weight,
And films, slow gathering, dim the sight,
And clouds obscure the mental light,--
'Tis nature's precious boon to die.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
I wasn’t supposed to fall so hard
I wasn’t supposed to call out for your arms in the night
And my lips weren’t supposed to search for yours
As if they would actually be there.
I wasn’t supposed to nuzzle into my pillow at night
pretending that your hands were nestled in my hair
I wasn’t supposed to make small talk
just so I could hypnotize myself with that something in your eyes
I wasn’t supposed to wake up cold in the gray morning
with the strong urge to be bruised and bitten
In fits of slow, languid passion.

Unreal how our bodies match and move together,
Uncanny how our minds meld and play in synch.
My youthful love for life,
Your chuckling maturity, still unsure what life is.

Now I play soft ballads full of aching, yearning,
I can wrap myself in a blanket on the floor
With a mug of tea, and think silently on you
And the shadows I wish I could conjure into existence…
They live inside, dancing to burst free from our guilty bodies
Too ethereal, too beautiful, to be abandoned
When we (artists) know we live for such wonders.

I wish I had any other option but forgetting,
or descending into madness.
(I’m currently choosing madness..?)

And it wasn’t supposed to be like this.
I wasn’t supposed to fall so hard.
I’m so sorry,
My summer love.

I do not question whether I am happy or unhappy.
Yet there is one thing that I keep gladly in mind --
that in the great addition (their addition that I abhor)
that has so many numbers, I am not one
of the many units there. In the final sum
I have not been calculated. And this joy suffices me.

Just pick up the razor
Let it dance across your wrist
Dragging a red train behind it
Just let it caress your skin
  Bringing you into oblivion

Just swallow every last pill
Make sure ever last one slides down your throat
And even as your body writhes and heaves
Just relax into it, riding the wave
   Bringing you your sweet escape

Just leave your engine running
With all the doors and windows shut
Inhale the tantalizing smell of death
Just wait until you feel the fumes embrace you
     Bringing you home on a bed of smoke

Just hang some twine from your rafters
Feel its soothing massage around your neck
Say a quick prayer, and taking a last breath
Just jump, feet first, and don’t look down, listen for the crack,
     Bringing you the last sound you’ll hear

Just touch the cold metal to your head
Soft as a gentle kiss, with a velvet bullet tongue
You know your white walls would look lovely red
Just slowly squeeze the trigger, easy as she goes
      Bringing you into a state of ecstasy, fade to black

Just run into the pure blue depths, slick and serene
They’ll crash around you, knocking you down
Beating you, the way that gets you off
Just submit to the indigo ink, to the large rocks breaking your back,
Bringing you to your highest peak, and then silence

Just let yourself be free, forget about your troubles
And let Death’s cloak wrap around you in embrace
Taking you to worry free shores, painless cliffs
Just let go, just like you’ve always wanted
   Bringing you the satisfaction of release

Sometimes, if its quiet enough, I can feel and hear my heart beat. I guess I can all the time, but I never really pay any attention to it. I take it for granted everyday. I break it, crush it, loose it..How is it that something so simple and yet so complex, but so small, can determine not only whether you live or die but also whether or not you live a happy life? They say people think with their brains. I think that they think with their hearts more. The heart overrides all facts, explanations, and reasons. It is the root of all things irrational and passionate.  The heart is in control ~ not the brain. This makes life beautiful. The entire idea of this is irrational and improvable. Follow your heart. It will break, bleed, fall in love, get you in trouble and suprise you in so many ways. But most of all it will teach you. Follow your heart if you want to live. Follow your brain if you want to stay alive. 

We smile at each other
and I lean back against the wicker couch.
How does it feel to be dead? I say.
You touch my knees with your blue fingers.
And when you open your mouth,
a ball of yellow light falls to the floor
and burns a hole through it.
Don't tell me, I say. I don't want to hear.
Did you ever, you start,
wear a certain kind of dress
and just by accident,
so inconsequential you barely notice it,
your fingers graze that dress
and you hear the sound of a knife cutting paper,
you see it too
and you realize how that image
is simply the extension of another image,
that your own life
is a chain of words
that one day will snap.
Words, you say, young girls in a circle, holding hands,
and beginning to rise heavenward
in their confirmation dresses,
like white helium balloons,
the wreathes of flowers on their heads spinning,
and above all that,
that's where I'm floating,
and that's what it's like
only ten times clearer,
ten times more horrible.
Could anyone alive survive it?