You can sleep in my bed tonight.
I'll light candles and we can talk about why all of the strangers stare at us.
They think we look funny
standing by ourselves
but so do they
because they board buses that haven't moved in who knows how many years.
We can laugh at them if they do
and we can follow them
if you want to
and even if the sun comes up before we've figured out where we're going,
I promise I'll kiss you goodnight when we have.
(b.r.o.)

Once the garments are put on
It means the world to take them off
To be naked is a figment of the population's imagination
A demonstration of the incarceration of our figures
What was naked before we covered up?
I cannot decide if these rags that I wear
are a bomb shelter or a prison cell,
Either way I am trapped inside of myself.
It is a terrifying place to dwell and maybe
that is why I should not expose my body.
The indecency of telling me
that the most natural thing I can show you is indecent;
we are hypocrites.

When I look at you,
I am transported to another state of being.
Another time, another place –
a consciousness in which I am unconscious
of everything but you.
I want my eyes to wander along every inch of your body
and commit it to memory.

Memory, memory, yes, to memory.
I would rather rid the ocean of its waves
than forget the curve of your spine.
I want the freckles decorating your cheekbone and neck
to be the stars in my internal sky.
My mind is the canvas;
you are the painter.
Be an impressionist painter,
not because it has to be beautiful
but because it has to leave an impression.

Cutting myself off
From the responsibility
From those that waste my time
Focusing on myself
My success
My happiness
No longer will I live a lie
Just going to say goodbye
To the endless *******
That I seem to have immersed myself in

Do you miss the way I walk
Or the silly way I talk
Do you think twice
About how you weren't that nice
Or have you moved on
Not considering that I'm gone

You won't get a second chance
To get back that loving glance
I won't run back to your embrace
And let you kiss my face
But I don't think you care
Because real love was never there

And I still dream about you somehow
Even though I've tried to vow
That I won't think about those times
And keep validating them with rhymes
But even though I'm low
I don't want you to know

That I miss the way you walk
And the serious way you talk
That I'm willing to think twice
About how not nice would just suffice
And that I'm trying to move on
Yet still wishing you weren't gone

So high you can’t stand straight.
So you call me up even though it’s late.
It’s been six months since the last time we talked,
But at 2 a.m I took that extra long walk.
I was tired as ****, but I definitely did it,
Because I still cared for you,
Even though I should have quit it.

I carried you home that night on my back.
And the next day, you didn’t even have the courtesy to text me back.
Until three months later when you were in the same predicament.
And once again, I got up to take care of your incident.

That night you were too drunk to drive,
Even though you grabbed your keys and were about to say goodbye.
Luckily, your friend Lucy called me on my phone.
Said she wanted me to take you home.

I tucked you into bed and I told you goodnight,
Slept on the couch, until the day shined light.
And in walked your mom, She asked why I wasn’t home.
I had to tell her I didn’t want you sleeping alone.

I said you were sick and I just left.
I did want to be the one to talk about our mess.
After that day, we never said hi,
Even though I saw you getting high
Right after school by the coffee shop,
I just walked pass, didn’t want to stop.

You didn’t make any moves,
I guess that’s cool.
Just realize what I did for you.

What I did was love after you ****** me over,
Before our relationship, I was like your brother.
And like my real family, you just walked out.
Explanation is the key sentence you left out.

It’s all good though; I try not to care anyways.
I try to stay positive, look forward to better days.
I’ll find love, and maybe this time it’ll be different.
That’s if I buck up and just listen.

"1. I was drunk off ****** ***** he was tall and looked like a boy I used to love. I pressed my forehead against the glass window and told him I loved being high up and he told me to come back to bed where it was dark and warm and I couldn’t see all the lights and the little people swarming 63 floors down. he told me his little brother’s name and I used to remember it. I’ve forgotten by now.
2. he kissed me tasting like tequila and trying to make me something that I wasn’t. he kissed me because I was there and he didn’t want to hurt my feelings. writing about him makes my blood stand still I think I’ll stop before my arteries start to clog.

3. I was ******* a cherry lollipop and feeling like ******, he was throwing his shoulders back and thinking about soccer season. I put my lollipop in his mouth and he said “why don’t we have this conversation walking”. under the trees at night before the cops shut the party down he put his hands up my shirt and then got bored when I wouldn’t **** him with my mouth. sometimes when I see him I smile a little like “maybe…if you had waited another minute…”

4. I took the L train to Brooklyn it was hot and sticky and I was worried he wouldn’t like my hair. when I wandered into the bar I didn’t recognize him until he touched my shoulder. he said he didn’t like sleeping because it was boring and he stuck his fingers in hot wax and he rolled me a cigarette and then apologized when I told him I’d quit last yeah but I’d smoke it anyway. his apartment was full of stupid art and I don’t know why he never texted me back. maybe he found out I was too young for him. maybe when I kissed him he tasted high school on my lips.

5. he was hands, hands, hands, touching me in the shallow water of a man-made lake. he was in my hair and falling into wet sand his lips were all over my chest he murmured “don’t leave me what am I going to do without you.” I left the next day. “you’ll be fine.” I wish he had left bruises on my skin but he is far too kind for that and he calls his little cousins cook, short for cookie.”



a.n. &m.g;.