Nothing I could
ever write would
capture the way
you make me feel
when you're not even trying.

My heart beat stopped with a wimper
like a cry swallowed by the night. Stifled
by the
prettiest
little
monster.
Hair like Hell-fire licking the sides of
her face tracing cheeks like lips in the dark.
Fangs hidden behind smiles and honeyed words
that put me at ease as easy as a lullaby.
I am the perfect victim and she is
the prettiest little monster.

I am counting twelve pairs of ribs lining the perimeters
of my torso
Boney Me
Asthenia fingers
Wasted knees and knuckles
Pricking the hard chords on my chest-guitar
Misery eyes -- Dashing around in dustbin sockets
My head like a raisin with skull-shaped framing
****** inward
Looking at the dead animals guilting me
Looking at the withering plants begging for water
Evil food.

Attracted to the mirror
I know only this
Only what I see -- And I see a sow.

Lost in this possibly regrettable movement
Towards
Skeletons
Boney Me
Looking at the evil food
I tell it that I hate it and that it will never be me

I tell it I want to be like the flossy ones on magazines
Thin to skinny to boney
Boney me smoking an e-cig
I defeat the evil foods tonight
Surviving on primal back-up spirits
Surviving for the hope of closeness
Maybe
I can waste away all this skin
And finally see my own heart.

We talk and it's all I can do but smile
You make me giddy
You make me feel like a little kid again
We joke and kid and I feel like I'm floating on a cloud
You'll do anything to see me smile
And I'll do anything to keep this going
I want this to last forever
I want to be able to stay here and revel in what we have
But like all good things, this must come to an end
You say goodbye and we part ways again
And I wonder when the next time will be
When I can float on this cloud again
And talk about absolutely nothing
With you

She only tells the truth
in the mornings.
Sunlight cracking through
the windows across her
face just as sure as the grin
that I put across her face.
Whispered words that
make her grin echo across
my face.

She only tells the truth
in the mornings,
but I wouldn't trade the nights
for the world.

Enthralling. Captivating.
These are the words you
spoke under your breath
just loud enough for me
to hear. For you to hear.
I find myself clinging
to your words like
a child to a blanket,
warm, comfortable.
A barrier that I slip around
my skin the way your fingers
trace my side, my thighs, my fingers.
Words chosen as carefully as all
the boys broken at the bottom
of your toy chest. I still long
to hear you say those four
little words again.
"You're more than that."