We don't speak.

We look into each other's eyes.

We don't nod.

We acknowledge each other's presence with silence and calm swarms along with it.

He fixes his tie and walks away.

We don't speak.

We don't speak.

We don't speak.

help me.
i think
I've forgotten
how to
breathe

on a night like tonight
when everything feels
just a little more dismal
than any other, i find myself
missing the way the moon
embraced the slant of my
cresting back. some days,
i sit back and i think about
how sorry i am for hurting you
or if my decisions hurt me
more than they did you

some days i can't help but wonder,
how in heaven's name i was dumb
enough to walk away from all that i had with you. i wait not for your demise
but my very own against your
desires and pleas, if i could symphony you a tale of my dire dissatisfaction of my
daily life, i'd stand upright against
this shallow wall they've built
to help me stay upright and ready

some days, i waft, face drowning
in an ocean of dissatisfaction
waiting for something new or old
to shrug my slumped shoulders awake.

Recite to me every song lyric that reminds you of me and every line that hums a smile across your lips and presses the feel of my hands against your chest.

every once in a while i stay awake and dream of you.

and his face
is much like
any other
faceless face
but his mind—
oh darling,
but his mind is
*enigmatic

be careful who you lay with
everyone's so sure of themselves
morally nowadays
they remember to forget that
they are human.

how they'd handle this situation is
different when they aren't in
this situation.

be careful who you lay with.
And who you go back to.

i don't deserve your late night kisses

youth is on your side
until you are dead;
only then has it
escaped you.

there are no clocks
in this room:
how do they
except me to know
when to leave
and when to stay

I'm pretty sure I die with you every night. Miserable souls always seem to last the longest in this sent from hell world. Here comes the manslaughter, the impending doom of it all, the sideways games and glances that leaves my seat wet and my neck hungry for your hands, here comes the tragedies, mistaken suicidal attemptants at kisses that stream tripping in between sets and hollow stairs painted down my hips with the fire of you. Here comes the luster that doesn't lack. I think. Today would be a good day for everyone to disappear, including me, into you but you won't incline your hips into me 'cause last night I told you I once tried to **** a real good song so that I could own it's rights and lefts while spiraling into your lungs like a jail's black tongue. Here comes the poems and cults that Shakespeare shot down my inner thighs as you tattooed my lungs with the **** of your cigarettes. Here it all comes to ridicule me deeper into the middle of this crisis, here it all comes to take a toll on the planes of my mind as I shoot up high into sage tainted milli-universes. Here comes folded dollar bills cupped and lined against the tusks of my milky breath toned to the centerfold of your abdomen, here comes the part that hurts just a little bit more each time you come around. Here comes knowing you.

i am not yours to keep

he told me
he was searching
for brilliance as he
hunted through the black muck
of my eyes as though I had
convinced him
of such an existence.

I am
as
quick
as your
tongue.

I wish I had someone to hold my hand and tell me exactly how the world works so that I wouldn't have to go on making so many false movements.

You made me feel lonely,
hollow enough to sink into a
tub of suds,
humming songs of loves and
those lost within it,
you made me feel lonely enough
to want you to stay

Don't tease me with the pursuit of death. If you're going to destroy, please just go on and do it.

I can’t hear
anything
because sound
doesn’t live
in my ears,
it lives out of
everyone
and
everything
else
and it
slinks
into me.

never let me leave this bed again
tie me steady to the palm of your breath and sift me quietly into a blue dream, leave me candied between the yams of your thighs as my eyes rolls sallow down the slot of your tongue, I am your-count it- 1 2 3- option on this languid roster, number E L E V E N on the back of your ******* mind and number  O NE for the title of 'most sought after and forgotten' tell me, how do you see me. how do you see me. how do you view me. can you even see me? Or is it only during your odd dips and lows when you need new energy to help you feel again. I have to say from level nine to ten, that's how much I hate you and I swear to this dude, I'll never ******' show it.

this won't
save your life
or even your
neighbor's
but it will
make you feel
better.

i don't have a heart for you to break

I can't say that I know exactly what you want from me at this very standstill, I'm trying to remember how to breathe you in without becoming enraptured in the thickcut essence of you but on a day like today when my confidence frays at the slightest quiver of your lips, I couldn't say what I'm most in a haze about, the idea that you see me or the fact that you so frequently forget me, but it doesn't hurt me, it doesn't.

He called me.
I listened to him
as he leaves
me a message
on the house phone.

"Hey, I know
that we aren't really
talking anymore but.
I miss you.
Call-"

I picked up the pone.
Just to listen to him
say, "Hello.
Hello.
Marie?"

Before he sighed
and hung up. I just
needed to hear my
name rattle through
the case of his mouth
and hit me.

I think I miss him.
But I can't be sure.
I think I just
miss the way
rings me.

there's this girl I know
who has never fallen in
love. people keep saying,
"how empty she must feel."
I keep thinking,
"how free she must be."

I imagine him so                perfectly          without       -       me that when he's       w i t h me       -      I don't even recognize him.

i demand
a certain
amount of
warmth
from every
body I lay
next to.

You fill your voice with sand
and I, with air.

the heart is a mirror that reflects nothing but organs

I like it when he
rests his head
on my shoulder
as if to let me know
that he is really
here with me
and not just another
sick memory
from what we were.

I like the way
his hair strands
tickle through
the sheers of my
shirt, breeze
sifting through
the vents of his lips,
cooling my warm skin.

He is *here.

i like to think that I'm
a little bit more than
nothing
and a lottabit less than
everything.

"It is such a lovely, lovely day.
Why don't we go
be lovely with it?"

tell me,
I used to say to him
whenever we were
tense in the festering
breaths of an argument-
do I bleed like all of the
others

when i was young
i froze the world between my fingers
and as it fell, I married it's teardrops
between the balms of my feet.

I can't stop thinking

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.

I think it's easier to say
'if I had known' because
then it makes me feel
less responsible for
what you did.
If I had known
that you felt
so alone in this
world that you'd go
to that extent

I'd have.

And that's just it.
What would I
have done.
I know I did
nothing
and now
where are you

I'm sorry
you had
to leave.

I'm sorry
I have
to stay.