You strum on me
Plucking the strings
Like you pinched that guitar, that day
But you play Dylan, Death Cab
Seven Nation Army.
Amateur.

You have touched everything
And I will not say that I miss you
When you haven’t left me.
Your DNA is all over me, suffocation;
And I flush against you, willing our hearts to beat in time
Desperate for desperation
For the savage wanting thoughts that possess me to come to life
But you are no magician.
And they are not yet unlocked.

i don't know where to start
I never have
people just place me where they want me
and where I eventually want to be too
if I try hard enough
and then
from there
I follow the compass in their words
to the next place they told me to go.
connect the dots.

when you first invited me to your house
and I thought all my thoughts
the pieces of my mind arranged themselves
in to the room that I thought suited you
and the window was wide but dirtied so I didn't know what view you had
and the bed was large enough for the two of us
and the computer you use to kiss me was in the corner beside the door
across from the wardrobe where you hid your ***** magazines and skins.
And the floor was worn with childhood.

But I soon discovered that your floor was carpeted
and the window was small and on the wrong wall
and you don't have a computer in your room-
there is one in the study of your house
that all
the family
use.

Today dripped down me like a dream
Under the sheets
I can feel it with my
Toes.
Grains of salty thoughts between them.

Today, nothing much happened
And nothing was said
The conversations had no effect, they’re
Dead.
They drowned.

He is a catalyst
He makes things happen
He sets things on fire, everything
He touches alight.
They burn;
With excitement or hatred or
imminent death.

And as the drum of his winged feet leaves them
They fade into sparks
Dying down until
They are like me just flickering remains
To show
That he was here
once
upon
a
time.