somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

In this story
I call you the cursed verses
Of where I learnt wicked things
And the way you corrupted my body
How you came hungrily
Eager for velvet skin
How the silk slipped off my shoulders
And hesitated at my hips
The way my breath hitched
And you plaited our fingers
Like you'd never let go
But you left me standing on the porch
Chest open wide
Swinging from its hinges
My epilogue tells of how
My spine still won't remember its wings
No matter how many times my knees kissed the pavement

“I wonder what it’s like to love you.” You say as we’re lying in my bed.

“I wouldn’t know,” I say, “I don’t think anybody ever has.”

And you give me a pitiful smile, the kind you always give when I
say something so negative about myself.

I guess I’m glad I’ve come to think of it as ‘commitment’ rather than ‘pity’.

I’ve let myself drown in you. I let myself become lost in your lifeless eyes

and I’m filled with regrets but I don’t regret a thing. Maybe I Regret Breathing.

You’ll let my ghost linger, just for awhile longer. You’ll let me be real to you.

And as I feel the smoothness of you silk black hair in my hands, I wonder

if I’ve ever really loved you or if I just loved how in love we could have been. The agony of loving you won't let me die.

some days it hurts so much, i'm shrinking inside of myself,
you're like a thousand roses inside, thorns piercing my lungs
all i can taste is the thick blood, i'd be too afraid to kiss you,
worried that the taste might not go away, even if replaced by
the flavour of a fresh summer day on your soft lips.
a flower grows for every heavy breath, begging to be alright,
for every tear that you just won't let fall. the texture of
sadness which we encompass cannot be outwardly expressed
in such frail gestures. the brush of skin, the splatter of blood.
the wind through the blades of green grass, your pale pale
skin plays such a lovely contrast. but aren't you sick of all these
red skies? even sunsets need to take a break every now and then.

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."