I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know

Because stones do not pray, even in their centuries’ quiet,
Because the vines are long, only for the sake of length,
Not like the drab Orpheus-song that always up-ruins.
Because vestal Autumn is a bride of noon-time rain,
A faithful stream with her white mist of suffibulum,
Beside the path whose footprints are half-notes from the grave.

You were in my dream last night
And Now
Every word I write
Is reminiscent
Of words you sighed
Into my skin.

I give myself
Mirror pep talks
To explain away
The way you stopped
and looked at me with words caught in your throat
Under the dimming bulbs of my parent’s porch

And I wish I could forget
Gentle as a sunset,
Your breath skimming my hands that night
Staining my skin under
Dying lights
And I can’t tell if I’m hurting right...