We’re fading, fading.
And I miss how you always felt like a fresh spring day under my fingertips.
I miss the colours you brought with your laugh; life wasn’t just all black and white.
But you disappeared into thin air, just like the smoke from my cigarettes.
I inhale, I exhale.  
I’ve tried to keep a piece of you with me in every word; in all those songs we danced to.
Why is it I can never cry, but I think about you telling me that god’s plan involves you leaving too soon, I can’t stop.
Crimson stains every pillowcase and the oceans of your eyes look like something I could get lost in but wouldn’t be able to get out of.
It all fades away;
The feeling of soft lips against pale skin.
All that’s really left is the ghost of your touches and this black and white sky I've been stuck under.

Higher and higher; my love sinks down
I lose the sun, in exchange for the moon
Day by day; it's how we'll get by
I'll dance in the rain; I'll steal your sickness
Breath by breath; I'll be so gentle with you
I want to kiss your pale cheek, give you life.
Lower and lower, but my voice won't falter
I'll sing to the slow rhythm of you heartbeat
And I know you'll smile even though you'll
Be afraid and it will break my heart off into
Another piece, but it's okay, I'll give it to
You, so you'll have something to hold on to.

It was so late at night, I don't even remember if it was within the time span to be considered night anymore. It was so late that it wasn't, maybe it was actually so early in the morning, but I remember that we were lying in your bed and you had your left arm underneath my neck and my face was buried in your old, white T-shirt and it was the first night we'd ever spent together. I had so many emotions flowing throughout my entire body and I just wanted to cry because they were so strong and you were right there and I knew that these emotions were caused by your presence... What would happen to them when you weren't there?

I remember fearing you leaving me, whether it was your choice or mine or fate's, but I grabbed onto that old, white T-shirt of yours and squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could before pulling myself in closer to you. No matter how close I got, I wasn't close enough. Body heat radiated off of you, but my fear left me cold and you warmed me up; you started a fire in my heart and an explosion in my brain.

I must've continued to clench harder and harder onto you because your eyes shot open and you wrapped your hands around my arms—my body—and said with panic in your voice, over and over again, "What's wrong? Are you okay?" And when you saw that I was okay, you released a breath of air, "Don't go, I've got you."

I was startled at first by your quick reaction, but then it hit me. You were left behind once. You were just as scared as I. So I looked up into your dark, piercing, yet innocent eyes and kissed your chin softly, "Yes. Everything's perfect. I'm not leaving you."

I could see a wave of relief wash over you and this time, you nuzzled your face into the crook of my neck and whispered, "I'm not leaving you either." You laid back down and I stroked your cheek up and down, causing you to quickly fall back asleep. I studied your old, white T-shirt one last time, discovering two holes and a single stain. A small smile crept upon my face.

We're just a couple of messy people in a broken world, but sometimes two "wrong" people are right for each other. I can't fix him, just as he can't fix me, but we can help each other fix ourselves. And it wasn't until that very moment where I said to myself, "I love this boy."

For every broken piece she’s got, she makes a paper crane to remind herself that bruises heal. And every day she makes 3 paper cranes, after making each one she shrugs her shoulder and smiles.
“Well that’s life” she says and falls asleep in her mediocre bed and her pillows tasting salty from her tears during her nightmares.
One morning she got up and realizes she has plenty of paper cranes living in her bedroom floor, in her sunflower kitchen, in her garden, in her beloved tub. There were so many that she couldn't count them off.
Then she placed her palms on her chest and realized she no longer has anything beating and then the world was never the same again.

How many pieces must have fallen from her heart?
How many left?

All those paper cranes were static but she needed answers. A lot of answers. She needed to hear why those pieces were torn and why she was severely suffering.

But no one came and whispered soothing things on her ears. The night fell and the moon was big and bright and cried because that was the only thing she could do. Her hands can barely make another paper crane to remind her that it was life.

The moon was wide and big and quiet but she felt that the silence was all she need and the moon became her refuge.

There was no one to save her but at least, something to turn to when loss is becoming unbearable.

You entered into my bloodstream just like the drug I was once so hooked on.
You said, “At least you can see your ghosts, mine prefer whispering things into my ears and never showing themselves.”
I laughed because what else was there to do. You smiled, too.
I told you never to be like me; never to act like one of the ghosts that hovered around and stifled you.
You said that every time you saw me then, you couldn’t help but see a blue light glowing around me.
You said I reminded you of hospital bathrooms and lies and imperfections. I reminded you of thin needles and punctured skin.
I was just glad we were finally getting somewhere, getting to know each other.
And I was glad you never asked why all my poems were written in the past tense, too.