I no longer write about her along my binder
Or search around the halls trying to find her,
I don’t want to hurt you.
Although I already am
Would it hurt less to move along?..
Or keep her wondering whats going on
Im sorry I do this.
You aren’t the first one
Its not anything you said
Or something you done
I always said commitment wasn’t my thing
;

What I wish I was
And What I Have Been
A contradiction in terms
That disguised himself
In an intellectualist's cloak

A time worn wooden shelf
For all of my insidious memories
Decorating tacky shameless
Lighting for a cemetery
Making a mockery of
The designations of life's many fates
And my creed was based on the novelty
Of avoiding how to grieve

Crimson tired eyes
Postulating sleep upon restless nighs
For I expended so much time
Doing just a little less than nothing
And somethings, my brothers
They  never change

I am so unequivocally deranged
My life changed
And what promised to illuminate my life
Encapsulated my only light with shame

As I breath
Martyrs and murderers
become the same
The leaves fall like they do
When their colors change
If that's how our lives worked
I would die today
Away from my lovely tree
Be swept away by the wind
Disintegrate into this earth again
Regret that life's not as simple
As I would love to forget
Find reprieve in a new life
I never found in the one I have in front of me

Do ever lie
About the world being your ocean
Have you embellished your devotion
So they'd know you elsewhere from your pride?
If these lies coincide with mine
Your eyes probably glisten with a little bit of wine
And you might tell me something
I was spose'd to find
Because I took my time to get to know you

But maybe you don't mind
You know we both got broken in
By the memories we tried to hide behind our smiles
We should have embraced those thousands of miles
Right until the day we didn't
And I'll never hand you the blame
I'm not ashamed
Of why we both hate our beginnings
But I promise you, my friend
If you stay strong for me
Then I won't give in
So you can stay till the very end

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

there are so many of you
that i would love to sit down with;
maybe over a milkshake and a plate of fries;
and just talk.
i want to ask you about the boy that hurt you,
about the anger you feel deep inside
over a father who said he’d come back...
and then didn’t.
i want to run with you through pages of words and say
“oh that’s right, what a lovely metaphor.”
i want to see all your smiling faces and
thank each and every one of you for showing me kindness,
for saving my life.
i want to collaborate on novels of poetry
and laugh with you through the tears of our pasts.
so until we sip those milkshakes and eat those fries...
thank you, to
some of the most beautiful people i have never met.

i've learned over time
that when tragedy strikes, it's
so much easier to bury your face in a pillow
and give in to the fog...
and wait.
wait for someone else to come along and make it crystal clear again.
wait for someone else to make sense of all the grey
you see no matter how times you rub your eyes.
but darling, i ask you,
if everyone gives into the fog
who will be left to fight it off?
although it's easier to pray for a knight, a miracle, something,
sometimes you have to save yourself.