a senseless **** is still a **** to give and to give of myself, so kindly, is the nicest thing I could ever do for anyone and sometimes I swear I feel the pulse of every evil thing a woman could possibly feel pulsing through the bulbs of my thighs and quickening the thrills of my braced heart as my mind darkens against the sun of you. the night your lips uttered my name, I walked back down every path I ever crossed to get to you and picked up every cigarette **** I ever tossed in hopes that you'd one day look at my will to pick up our past, no matter how ill we were, and still see the beauty in its uselessness. you'll always understand me as crazy baby just like you, and maybe that's why I'll always love you. it'll always be understood that my cigarettes will taste of Bourbon like my lips, liquid to your breath, like Vaseline on your fingertips. anyone with a certain blackness in their eyes holds my intrigue much like how anyone with a certain lightness to their feet trips up my heart, hopefully because they'll always leave me, most likely because they know I won't chase, definitely because they know I'll always want to.

tell me how you'd romance this stone as I lay unnerved by the wind of you. tell me how you'd keep my body cold and my mind warm as you hold me between yours fingers, tell me you'll love me til I die be it tomorrow or the next day, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me tell me that my lungs won't ache after you've skipped me across the pond to drown, tell me how it is you plan to romance this stone. and I swear I'll never leave you.

she covers mirrors to hide the light, only ever showers at night when she can't glow, stays certain beneath this winter's dry cloak and breathes heavy like a sea bended on her ex-lover's knee. she hugs the sky with her mind's eye and pukes in mellow shades of green. she hides in front of open doors, kisses her swollen feet, pounds her head against brick walls and waits to bleed. she holds her happiness within the browning palm of her hands and watches the ripples of the wind blow her away.

the modern world will die from its careless intake of caffeine and they will go blind from feverish bliss

I am ever so simply a woman and so I liquify from the waist down and on the eve of a disastrous morning, I use the tips of your your lips as marmalade and marinade within the notion of you. If I was to ever go mad, it'd surely be based on the mere idea that you once knew me as certain as you knew the difference between a prism and a square, just additions and subtractions of necessary and unnecessary lines.

the bruises on my legs mark the lies of you from a past when all I did was bleed on your bed sheets and whine about the aesthetics of any place that didn't feel like home, that didn't feel like you. but I digress. but I digress.

he said I opened up like a flower in his mouth and only budded when he planted his seeds upon me, he said I shined like a golden waxed sun, and blindedly, he gazed upon me until his eyes became glossy and brimmed with melted butter. he said I bled cranberry juice on his white sheets and refused to apologize for my sins and I laughed at his silly truths and said, "A likely story." he said I rhymed like the chorus his left and right legs created, balanced. he missed the chaos of me from behind his tear-tinted glasses. he missed all of the ways my body shuddered simply because the lack of rhythmic noise and conversation and action wound me up in the binds of his tight knots and refused to release me.