My best songs were about you;
full of pure honesty and hopeless desperation.
They were written in minor keys
on lonesome days when I needed you most.

And I still sing your name in my sleep –
a lilted melody that cuts deep
and wakes me from a nightmare that doesn’t end
when my eyes open to the empty space you left in my bed.

With sleepless eyes I drive until the sunrise
and the radio is playing our song.
It makes my heart heavy and my hands numb
but I still scream along at the top of my lungs.

I don't care what you know,
I care what you feel
and if everything in your head is real.

.................................................................­.......................................................

        ­                          lost in midnight madness
                                         I can hear the clock
                                                  tick tock
                         A battle against the voice in my head

           "Don't go there”
                                                          ­                                  
                                                                ­           “But it’s time”

           “You’ll be fine”
                                                           ­                           
                                     ­                                     “Lose your mind”

                                 A breakdown of a different kind
                                    an insomniac with no reason
                                                    or rhyme

            “You’ll be fine”

                             I’ll only sleep when the sun wakes up

.............................................................­...........................................................

The moon lost her glow
when autumn turned to winter
and winter turned to cold.

C'est la vie
and I feel free,
but I don't feel alive.
The world spins
and I'm standing still,
but I don't want to try.

There's poetry in symmetry;
you're the other half of me.
There's something about chemistry;
chemicals running through our bodies.
We can't forget history;
the war between our hearts of two.
I can't think of anything
to keep myself away from you.

I don't care where we go.

I've finished my drink;
You're thinking about
what's underneath my clothes.

So take me home,
and you can stay in my bed
until the moon becomes the sun instead.

Please be gone in the morning.

I don't want your pills,
but yes I want to die.
Did you write that down?

My leg is shaking,
maybe you should write that down.

No, I haven't slept.
No not for a few days now.
Write that down.

Bipolar? Depressed?
You're not sure?

Write that down
and let me know later.

shaking feet,
fist fulls of sheet,
fill me until
I feel complete.

My body is mine.
This skin will be new
in seven years,
and it will be skin you haven't touched.

I thought I was three years closer
to revival,
but you have struck seven more
on the board I wish didn't have a tally.

My body is mine,
but now it's yours, too.
You have a piece of me I will never get back.
So does he.

my best songs were about you
full of pure honesty and hopeless desperation
they were written in minor keys
on lonesome days when I needed you most

He brushed the back of his hand across my face
and his fingers slipped through my hair

He leaned in so closely I could hear his every breath

Our lips met and our hands laid rest
around each other's necks

And I could feel every bone in my body begin to tremble

But I refused to break into the hands of a boy
who would bury me without a funeral

I contemplated driving to your house and crashing through the window on your front lawn, the one that we gazed through while we were tangled up in your sheets and thinking about how insignificant we were in such a complex world

I dialed your number and deleted the digits over and over and over again when all I wanted was to gently press call and scream profanities at you at the top of my lungs despite the fact I knew you wouldn't have picked up your end of the line
I should’ve just left a voice mail

I wanted to claw through your skin and break your bones and tear your heart out of your rib cage so you would have just a minuscule understanding of how it feels to be without you
I can’t let go, I hate you, I love you, please call me, lets never speak again


It was never my choice to love you

I can never simply scratch the surface
and let things be;
I need to tear open the wound
and dive deep into the veins
To discover why the blood flows
so quickly.
I over analyze
the simplest complexities.

I thought I was sinking,
I dreamt in depths of dark blue,
rudely awoken night upon night
gasping for air.

When I opened my eyes,
I wasn't sinking,
instead I was washing up with the waves,
coughing up bitter salt water on my journey back ashore.

My sea legs are becoming steady.

"Sweet sixteen and never been kissed"
but I've been kissed
Hell, I've been *******
and ******* over
It took me less than sixteen years
to realize that all people know how to do
is walk all over you
Like a sidewalk on a city street
with all the cracks that people told you
would break your mother's back

Sixteen isn't so sweet

all you could give me
was a half-hearted,
"I'm sorry"
but it still meant more
than all the times you brushed me off
like the ashes of cigarettes
you litter all over the street
I was waiting
for you to tell me you still loved me,
but that hope burnt out
with the lighter you threw away
last week

my head hurts
my heart hurts
everything ******* hurts
and there's
nothing
at all
poetic about it

You kissed me on my mouth
and I tasted like *****
with a coca-cola chaser

I was a stumbling mess
wasted and confused
about everything but you

I tried to lay in the grass
but you took me and
I laid safe in your arms instead


**m.s.

isn't it ironic
that hearts are heaviest
when they're empty?

I smoke Marlboro Reds
because the smell reminds me of my father

"Cowboy Killers", they call them

I'm no cowboy,
but I sure hope they'll **** me anyway

**m.s.

I tried to play you a song
but my fingers melted over the keys
What was meant to be a beautiful melody
Instead sounded like
the melancholy
That is trapped inside of me


**m.s.

My heart is desperate
for something;
for someone
I want to feel love,
be in it;
bask in it
But once I have a hold of it,
I let go
It's too much
or not enough.


**m.s.

You ran your fingers through my hair;
now it's all in knots
Like the feeling in my stomach
when you told me that
You were better off
without me

**m.s.

I'll chase you relentlessly
to the ends of the earth
like the moon chases the sun

Because every now and then,
there is an eclipse
where past lovers meet

And when the sun and moon
finally kiss,
you'll be mine again

**m.s.

Cigarettes are enticing
when they are inhaled between
the lips of a beautiful boy
with a perfectly crooked smile
and mysterious eyes.

But his smile is stained
with traces of nicotine,
and the puzzle in his eyes
is impossible to solve.

And when you kiss him,
you can taste the stale smoke
lingering on his breath;
the stale smoke that has filled his lungs
and left them black and tarred.

He says they’re nice
when you’re feeling numb.

So you take a drag
in hopes of filling your lungs;
filling your emptiness.
But it leaves you black and tarred
all the same.

**m.s.