I met death in a parking garage
Overlooking a quiet capital
I met death behind fences
Through creaking gates
And sprinting across driveways

I found death behind the wheel
Him, in the seat beside me,
Without moving a muscle
He screams
Faster
Faster
Faster


Who am I to deny death
The man I love

Dripping in culture
Drenched in art
You pull me in
With deep thoughts
Ad poems spoken into rose beds
You drag me down
Gently with book recommendations
You drown me
A smile on your face
Rouge on your cheeks
You pull me down into the depths
With a soft, paint speckled hand
You drown me gently with a wink and a quote from a poem
I won't whisper abc to you
I sink into the abyss with the taste of honey and scones on my lips a smile on my face
My breath stops as yours continues to flow lines of romantic letters
My lungs halt with you painting my portrait
in the field of sappy love poems and honey drenched afternoons
You are the nicest sweetest poison
I have ever tasted
I die over and over again in your arms
pulled in by your rose tinted view
Of us

The way the sun
Shines on the bench in my backyard screams to me
that tomorrow will be better
that but that tomorrow will come
The bench in my backyard
Covered in moss and decay
Stands strong
As time slips around it
Threatens to drown it
It is a wonderful reminder
that i am beautifully breathing
the bench in my backyard basking in sunlight covered in moss
has lived and is living
and reminds me to stand brightly and wholly
Joy is the act of letting happiness in
I speak to the bench in my backyard
I invite you in
It whispers

I listen

Often we experience First Love at a young age
therefore it is underdeveloped
as all other things are when you are young
but with you, our love was never easy
undeveloped straight line love

yearning went past wanting you from across the hall
it was knowing that truthfully I could never have you
no matter how many times you promised otherwise
I must've known you in a different time and that time I'm falling for you in a
Flaming
passionate
enchanting
kind of way
but not here
here I  yearn for you first and last
And you yearn for me
Not at all

Sitting on the phone with you
Makes the silence feel more like pauses
And less like endings of conversations
Seeing you watch me out of the corner of your eye
makes mine open wider to not miss the beauty of your silent presence
Settling over me like a warm blanket
Sitting on the phone with you not talking is the loudest most comfortable conversation
I've had in months
So comfortable I could slip into you and forgot to speak ever again

Do I really like you or the idea of something new
I think love you
Maybe the idea of you  
even if we were not meant to be
please talk to me
The sound of your voice
The only voice I hear
We have communication issues but I only want to talk to you
Maybe it's the idea of you I've created I need
But I can't find it in myself to leave,
Even if you aren't real
I'm falling in love with the way you make me feel

I guess this is my fault
For crawling so desperately after you
Screaming and begging for months
For you to let me love you the way I needed to
I guess it's my fault
Like most things are
I guess it's my fault for thrusting my heart into your shaking hands
You cannot bear the weight of me
Your hands too weak
For months I threw myself at the only thing that brought me joy
You
I guess it's my fault that I never told you to let go
Your shaking hands claw into me desperately
The way I tried to do
To you