i draw planets on my wrist
outlined with the ink of a sharpie
my fingers are numb when i put my nails to my teeth; i smile anyway.

we tumble onto couches and beds
i sing you a song about ghosts and dancing
staring up at your ceiling and talking about
tomorrow’s destruction

my lips are tinted red from you biting down on them and my lips are glossed with tangerine ***** (your voice is murmured as you tell me you love me while i play with the lighter. i tell you the truth —i’m suffocating— you tell me to go to sleep)

your hands twist my skin
into hearts and stars
(we call it on the bottle, if it lands on you, i’m
yours. on me? i’m out the door.)

self destruction is the new mouth watering fantasy, we make ourselves bleed just to feel something.

(but baby, i’m so bored with all of this.
red wine spills onto my white tee shirt
and i hate the way it stains
but i still drink with you anyway)

your lips and guitar must be lonely tonight
while you drive to the gas station to buy ***** to drown yourself in, the bruises on your knuckles aching while i lay in bed listening to track number five on the mixtape you made me.

( and we still make ourselves bleed
but this time it’s for fun )

you light incense in your house to
keep the bad spirits away, but i still don’t understand how you could let me in. my soul is frigid and inked filled. it is raw and violent. it is terror.

i tried searching up your birthchart when i was high on my sentiment, but ended up vomiting on my bedroom floor and didn’t finish. but i heard sagittarius’ are adventurers, do you want to take a trip to my anatomy? you could play the harp with my ribcage, and play jump rope with my heartstrings. i don’t mind the pain when it comes to you. rip my heart out if you want, make my bones become dust! i love the pain when it comes to you.

you made me forget that i hated myself when we were lying in that cheap hotel bed, laughing with our veins filled with adrenaline. we were drunk off each other’s energy, and i felt complete. mama loves you, and she wants me to keep you around. she doesn’t have to worry though, because i want you around too. for as long as possible. please don’t leave. please don’t leave.

the phoenix is a sign of renewal and i used to wear that bird’s charm around my neck. keeping it on me at all costs. i would hear death knock on my bedroom door, and hear the skeletons in my closet cry for more. i should’ve suffocated them harder.

i ended up losing that necklace after two years of having it. but i don’t think i need it anymore because you replaced it.

so let’s strip the world black and white, mon chèri.
and you can play the ukulele
while i write love verses on your ceiling.

there was a warrant for my arrest not too long ago

it was all over the news, and i couldn't help but laugh. why would they put that out? my body standing amongst the blood-stained carpet. they say i'm a murderer.

body found, they found it still in it's clothes in the bathtub but they could still see the mutilation. the place looked horrendous. i knew there was only just a matter of time.

it seemed like those crime series where each episode gets them closer to the killer, but with the way these scenes are being handled, they can't find dna on the body.

they can't find the ****** weapon. all that's there is the trail of blood from the carpet to the bathtub from the victim. out of all places, why did they choose the bathtub? they could've gotten help.

you see, you ask yourself these things because it's ******* logic. i asked myself these things too before my head went under the water.

he
smells like cologne, the scent fills your nose and you're automatically drawn to him. the scent suits him nicely, and it's all i crave to smell whenever i'm hugging someone else. i get sad because it's never him.

he
spends his days on stage, the lights always falling perfectly on his body and ****** features as he strums his instrument and dances around with no care in the world. he's living in the moment, and i'm watching in complete amazement. he has me dumbfounded, and all i can do is smile.

he
says his name is christian, but i'm pretty sure it's apollo; because he's feared by most and he's more important than anyone else. he heals me in ways i can never bare to tell. his music is breathtaking, and i'm enchanted. he's my apollo.

he
is like poetry. filled with meaning and emotions. he can hook you with just a small hello! how are you? and i wouldn't know what to say if he ever said i love you. but i'm good! thank you for asking, just a little amazed at how you're so beautiful, my enchanting king.


(( it's funny because i keep describing him as such a god and how he holds me captive, but he's actually just a boy in a band who i crave the love of- but listen! he makes my belly get filled with butterflies and makes me feel like a melted popsicle on the fourth of july. i live for the way he makes me feel. ))

i hope you never find my poetry
because then you’ll realize why i left
you.

darling, i know i claimed that i moved on
but you gratified on the walls in my mind
like it was the fourth of july

you said you trusted me
and said you’d catch me if i fell

and i know i never said i’d catch you
but darling, i’d hold the pain of your world
on my back so i could see you smile

i know you wouldn’t believe me and half
the things i say if you were to read these right now

but darling, my love for you is still as strong
and don’t tell me you moved on
because i don’t wanna know.

i always wake up and write at 4am, and how ironic that i started this at 4:44am.

you always told me that i needed to set a routine, and if i’m being honest with you, my routine had been demolished a long time ago when you decided to come in crashing.

the room is pitch black, but i can still see your face. i can see the galaxy in your eyes and the constellations running down your arms, chest and spine

did it hurt, my love? when the lord casted you out of heaven?

is this why you need to feel like a god? because he never let you be one?

you make my heart ache, and i feel your hands ****** and fussy in my guts that it makes me want to purge out acid. that’s all you’ve been making me want to do lately.

your name is shared with a gun
and i felt your bullet pierce my heart
the last time i said it.

drinking hot peppermint mochas in the hot shower because i've learned i love the way the boiling liquid goes down my throat while the water droplets from the shower go down my spine at the same time

it reminds me of the days i slept next to you and you would trace shapes on my spine and lower back
while i drank hot chocolate

i guess even when things change
i still find a way to find familiarity

i like change and always seem to be a different person than when you last saw me

blue hair and pale skin
turns into brown hair and tanned skin
while my eyeliner is no longer big and bold
but small and thin

i'm always changing and i don't know who i'll be next, but i know it wont last long

you told me you can't keep up with my pace
and i told you no one could
yet you still tried to follow me like a lost puppy
looking for a home

you told me i was your home
but i don't see how a broken vacant lot
could ever be home

i could never be someone's safe haven
i could never be someone's fairy tale when i'm living a brother's grimm book

so i'll keep changing my hair
the way i dress
my makeup
and the way i talk

because that's when i feel i have the most control.

curse my name with your serpent tongue. step back in disgust and purge all the memories of me like bad liquor—as if my name gave you a bitter taste in your mouth. act like the tastebuds on your tongue never craved any of it.

i’m clinging onto the little sanity i have left because the rest of it is decomposing like a dead corpse in the grave.

you told me i had no backbone, but last time i checked, all my limbs were a phantom.

he was always a moment too big for me, everyone knew that. he was magnetic and electric, and my heart and entire being couldn't contain such a man as magnificent as him.

he was always torn with choosing me and his dreams, but i guess he finally had enough and decided to burn the bridge that connected us to each other.

sometimes i still find the ashes of the bridge's remains on my shoes and clothes from when i tried to get to him. i'm just speaking in metaphors, but no matter how many of them i use, they will never show you how miserable i truly am.

remington leith is and will always
be the bittersweet death of me.

his noceur soul leaves me wondering if he’s ever tired of the same **** thing. the endless sleepless nights, the fireball going down his throat as he inhales nicotine. i’m waiting through his phases, but the paroxysm in my heart and soul is overbearing.

the aeipthy feeling of this devil who devoured my heart last summer grows every morning and night. i can see still the pieces of my flesh in between his teeth when he smiles, and i never felt so empty.

i'd rather count the freckles on your back and trace the birthmark on your chest than think of the ways you could possibly hurt me

i've lived my life in high hopes and expectations only to be hit with the strong and devastating reality

your hands on my hips as we swayed to the neighbourhood i love you track number four on your bluetooth speakers and your lips traced patterns on the skin of my neck and i swore the lust i felt was love

your eyes said one thing, but your body movements said another

your eyes said they were hungry
starving
they were longing for something more than just a one time feast

but your hands were so delicate with my body
that it felt as if i was porcelain

you said could tame the beast within you, but you didn't know for how long

and it didn't take long before you devoured me.

i.

i ripped a page of my mixtape heart and watched the lyrics of a sad love song burn in a fourth degree. i’m so sorry, honey. you are the only memento i have of him; the only remembrance i have left.

but as i hold on to your tragic melody that rings in my ear drums, the more i feel the sting of love decaying like ashes from a cigarette that die with the wind

even now, thoughts of him fade in and out of my foggy brain, flickering like the lights in a horror movie. his smile could set the whole town ablaze, and his eyes, oh his eyes held a hellfire.

he buried himself alive in my head along with yesterday’s bones and yet, when i close my eyes, i am still haunted by his eulogy like a phantom of the sun. and i suppose the only song i will ever sing is his name, until his memory fades away and vanishes like my last breath on my deathbed

ii.

i wrote these sunburned verses, dripping wet with asteroid tears in each paragraph. my pen resembled a syringe used to inject these words into the water stained page while preparing a cocktail drink of rubbing alcohol and mountain dew before swallowing it all in one gulp. you were utter complete poison. threatening to ****** my sanity with a switchblade called your kiss on my skin. and perhaps one day, my heart will learn to fall in and out of love without feeling an overwhelming amount of guilt.

you really are the embodiment of hades in another lifetime. your hands are filthy and covered with the screams of the dark entities that you held inside that chest cavity of yours.
you hold so much more than i could ever know.

my hands are shaking and they are matching the tempo of your vantablack heart.

iii.

it seems i can’t write a single thing that wasn’t about you. you had murdered my words and made the thought of you bleed through my brain with your aftertaste.

love had become a distant memory where you ethereal face began haunting my dreams and my whispers were no longer whispers, they were blood curdling screams of agony.

your words breathed like they had a life after you stole mine, and since you did, i’ve been holding onto what’s left of my anatomy and die slowly.

iv.

you killed me with your sharp as a blade
cyanide tongue as i overdosed on my yesterday’s delusions while i closed my eyes
and sunk deeper into the abyss called nirvana.

you never loved me but i keep on loving you until my bones begin to ache with the apprehension and i keep on worshipping until i believe there is no other god. i know deep down, i'd put a bullet through my brain if you ever rejected me. or maybe i'd put one in yours. and deep deep down, i want to slit the world in half and make you choke on its blood because i'm choking on all this infatuation i have for you. i adore you, and the thought of you not ever wanting me is eating me alive like maggots eating a decaying corpse. i wish i could tell you how much you're ruining such a vile and rotten young girl with just one look. lick the venom off your gums, baby and get faded off my blood.

“better to die standing than to live on your knees.” you remarked

lawyer? no.
doctor? no.
you wanted to be revolutionary.

you wanted to be the dawn
when all the stars in the sky fade
into one.
you were red all over, a deep crimson
with passion and rebellion
i wanted to taste your sweat, your blood,
oh and your crybaby tears.

but all i have is this portrait of you, my love
(but everyone else does too!)

oh, my lover
the man with twinkling eyes
the ink michelangelo blessed him with
the terror bloodbath he bathes in

you did not become a revolutionary
you became the revolutionary

so i will try to stand
but
what if
i’m on my knees
for you?

they were both broken.
but the only difference was
that he took his anger out in music and alcohol
and she took it out in poetry and blades

two broken hearts
and two hurt souls
can’t make a whole

but oh, they tried.
they really did.

you pull the trigger just for fun
forgetting i’m a loaded gun.

“it was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.”

when electric eyes meet dead ones
the whole world pauses as the dead gets
shocked back to life! she has electricity coursing through her veins, and it gave him a shock of clarity! his eyes were fiery, they held souls of the living and the dead. oh my, he looked like death! she saw no life in him, but she swore she could breathe her air into his maggot lungs. she watched him. she watched him close. before big arms wrapped around a small body, a chin resting upon a head. he told her she was beautiful! oh so magnifique! his touch was imprinted on her for days!

the day they both felt their souls intertwine!

mayhem is born when
you speak in phrases of the
seven deadly sins

oh my killer hades, let me fill you up with the wine from the holy grail!

maybe then you'll finally find religion in my arms
like i do when i'm in bed with you

your serpentine tongue
licks the sun from my ivory skin
singing songs of destruction as
you make my guts spill and dance for you

you play with the strings of my flimsy veins
and throw me around like marionette.
i cannot breathe, you've ****** the air out
of my sweet lungs because you're such a thief

burn me down to the ground, mi amor
play with my ashes and sprinkle them on every
single one of your celestial beings' graves.

she was listening to the songs he put on the playlist he made for her at 4:23am in an oversized *** pistols shirt, barefoot in the kitchen with tears streaming down her cheeks as her hips swayed, a white mug in between her palms as the dark black coffee fills the emptiness he left inside of her, and the clouds of light grey smoke fill the air and replaces the aching silence in her head.

cigarettes and black coffee as food for the ones hungry for love.

i used to wonder where i would
put all the overwhelming love that
filled me up to the brim since it was beginning to overflow. i tried shoving my heart into the palms of everyone i met and begged them to take it, but their anatomy was so full that they couldn’t bare to squeeze in mine even if they wanted to.

i wondered why my love was not strong enough to make people stay. giving up my bones so people can wear them as a necklace to show they will always have a part of me even when i didn’t want them to.

my blood is staining the clothes that they burned to get rid of the evidence of me ever being there, and i learned to keep my mouth shut.

i also learned that putting a light
in the house that your soul died in
will not keep it from haunting you.

we’re fighting again.

and i don’t know if the chill in my bones was from it being cold, or if it was from you screaming you hated me before the line went dead.

i tried telling you something that you wanted to hear, but it seemed as if the words that were coming out of my mouth was gasoline fueling the fire within you

you’re always angry
and i’m always sorry

the silence has never been so loud
and my anxiety has never been this overbearing

and baby, i don’t know where our love is hiding
but i’ll let you know when i find it.

counting the squares on bathroom walls as i sat in the bathtub with my clothes still on. this seemed like a daily routine. get drunk, cry, get in the bathtub, cry some more.

i never thought i'd end up here. wishing i was dead because of a man that had fire for hands and a blade for a tongue. i thought i could fix him, but while i was putting his pieces back together, he was picking apart mine.

the steam from the water is filling the room and i let out a dry cough, throwing my head back as my eyeliner and mascara run down my cheeks and my hair is soaked, the dye bleeding on my skin.

do you like it when i hurt, mi amour? do you like it when i cry these pretty little tears for you? you always said i looked pretty when i cried. so right now, i must be drop dead gorgeous.

hugging my knees, shaking and trembling as my grandmother knocks on the door and screams i'm taking too long but i can't mutter a sound so i stay silent

the door opens and the mess you made is revealed. my lipstick is smeared on my face and i look like a wreck, grandmother screamed at me to get out of the bath and turn off the shower. i look like a mess. at least i can reflect what's on the inside, nana.

my hands are shaking as they reach and turn off the water, but i'm still sitting there. grandmother throws me a towel and says she'll get me some fresh new clothes.

i'm sobbing again. how pathetic. all i do is cry, but you're not any better because all you ever ******* do is lie. what have you lied about these past few weeks? did you tell another girl you loved her so you can get her body into bed? did you leave her bare and exposed in a hotel room and made her have to call her mama at 4am? oh wait— too specific?

grandmother helps me out of the bath and wipes off my makeup with a wet cloth, she's telling me whoever made me feel this way is tan jodidamente estúpido!

i agree, nana. he is. he's on a whole other planet and he needs to come back down to earth.

in fresh new clothes, i lay in my bed and my sister asks me what's wrong. i can't tell her that it's him again, i told her that for the past three weeks.

i run away when i don't know what to do, so i grabbed my bag and left to a motel room. sitting on a ***** mattress, i throw my head back and it takes me back to the times where my head would fall onto the pillow from the amount of euphoria and ecstasy you made me feel when your head was between my thighs

i gag. i cry. i cough. i laugh.

at least one of us still has a heart.

i licked my lips and sat there while the pastor preached the word of god, but i was too busy staring at the boy sitting next to me with his arms crossed. he was five years older than me, but i was a lifetime better than him. at least that’s what i think.

he had a pearly white smile and his heart on his sleeve, his irises didn’t look away as i caught him staring. he always liked to observe, and i happened to be the one who his eyes loved to prey upon.

his name was like toxins, decaying on my tongue, but i loved saying it anyway. he listened to dubstep and said that was his favorite kind of music while i loved the head banging rock music. we were so different but that meant our love was one of a kind.

but he felt like splinters in my fingers; the ones you ripped off harshly and watched the blood prickle up while you felt the sting. call me a *******, but i loved every second of it.

eyes are windows to the soul, and if i ever saw his eyes again

i would rip them out of their sockets and keep them as my own.

he had a moon tattooed on his arm because he loved the night

he told me i reminded him of the sun and he was ready to burn

but i don’t think he meant it because when my flames ignited, he was the first to run

or maybe those ashes on the floor were his.

you called me persephone for the first time when your tongue made a home between my lips and thighs

you told me i’d stay; chained to the hell you called your feelings until my legs snapped in half and my arms wrapped around you for support. but you never mentioned if you’d catch me.

you told me i was meant to love you
and i was never supposed to walk away
you told me the ruins we called our bed, were to never be escaped.

you called me persephone for the last time
when i grabbed my phone and walked out the door and into my mama’s car

you said persephone and hades would be forever
but oh, my hades, i no longer want to live life in darkness
i don’t want to taste the charcoal in my throat and choke
you no longer have control over me, my hades.
i’m ready to be set free.

my tongue was red from the jolly ranchers
and my lips were glossed with tangerine *****

we stripped down bare
and i could see your smile
when you saw me exposed

polaroid camera
flashes and lipstick stains on
porcelain skin

i cared for you
until i stopped caring for myself

the pictures are buried deep somewhere
in my room but your image is imprinted in my brain

remember when i said if the bottle landed on you, i was yours?

i’m still yours.

i told you i wanted to live amongst the stars
and sleep on the moon.
you smiled at me and said

“i would love that too
but won't you get scared of living in the darkness
without seeing the light?”

but oh darling, whom are you to speak?
you've been surrounded and consumed by darkness all of your life
what's a little less moonlight going to do to you?

the woman lays her halo on the pillow that used to be mine.

she sips my red wine and gets drunk off his fermented words, her long legs are wrapped around his body as she lets out a laugh

she knows what she’s doing
so now this drink is too hard to swallow

does she ******* margarita tongue when kisses him?
i really hope she does.

something about us made me feel so safe.
he could caress my cheek with a knife behind his back, and i would have leaned in closer and tell him to pierce my chest so he could get even closer to my heart.

he said her name as if it were a prayer but i don’t think he’s religious. if he believes in anything, he believes in himself. she found salvation in his eyes, and swore he was her savior.

she spoke in tongues when his hand was tucked between her thighs, she tried to not his verses out of context. but ****, it was weighing on her conscience.

bruised bandaged knuckles
and a cigarette between lips
it seemed as if i fell in love
with the boy who seemed bad for me

his hair was as black as the blackest ink
just like the ones on his skin
his eyes were as dark as the chocolate i loved devouring in the middle of the night when i needed a midnight snack

he wore leather as dark as his heart
and he smelled of expensive cologne and regret

he tasted like cherries and shame
but i loved the way our tongues danced

for once i want to be the one he chases after
instead being the one who chases him.

you are an angel with the white, pink lips bathing in asphalt and blackened undertones of aching broken hearts. you’ll search and search for salvation, only to come back with empty hands and burns on your fingertips.

2. he’s a demon in the night who bathes in moonlight and innocent girls’ sins. he doesn’t keep love around, only for a good one night stand. he’ll search and search for lust, only to come back with his hands full and heart shaped bruises on his neck

3. you think he’ll change for you, but his tongue is sharpened at the tip and it will cut your lips when he kisses you.

4. you’ll try to force your bleeding heart into his palms and tell him to take it and be gentle, knowing he’s going to crush it. “shh, sweetheart. it’s okay. i won’t break it.” but he does so anyway.

5. sitting underneath the stars at midnight watching the night go by as he gets into another girl’s car. leaving you empty and hollow.

you spoke often of the
horrible headaches and hunches
of your childhood

singing lessons, fever.
tattoo ink, stuffy nose.
loud voices, blurry vision.

(perhaps because you were
too much for your own body to
handle!)

they called you many things
beauty, devil, and a poet.
but you only wanted thing—
to be a musician of fine arts
to leave your handprint on the world
the ***** and the girls!
oh my! what a world!

angelus dulce! hear my call!
sole lover of my house and heart!
i do regret to inform you all
‘‘twas more than the song of angels
and saints that tore us apart.

(i dare to say
that some days
i still hear him sing)

my love, how long have you made me
taste the bittersweet darkness that i can no longer
fathom the light?

my heart pumps red wine
and you're getting intoxicated and drunk off my love
with that white dust sprinkled on your nose

"all of the gods have to taste the
galaxy too, my sweet persephone.
have a taste."

i ask myself how many times
i've whispered and moaned your name
in the past hour, and how many times
i've begged you not to leave me empty
and hollow again.

give me something to hold on to
stuff me with the bittersweet tragedies of your
sins and leave me to fend for myself while i
deal with your broken baggage

you're painting constellations
between my ******* with acrylic paints
as if it's your canvas and something to please
your ****** fantasies.

shoving cherries into your mouth
so you can taste me without touching my anatomy
with your devilish hands

you're overdosing on the galaxy
and night terrors from the girls
you've ripped the soul out of

and i'm afraid
i'm next.

i really am struggling with my writing and inspiration. please give me ideas of what to write about. it can be anything.

i could write a thousand poems about how your eyes look like galaxies and i’m simply born a stargazer or how your smile makes my tongue taste stardust

but instead

i’ll paint a picture of how you turn a hurricane mess like myself into something so sweet. a beautiful rainbow. and i’ll paint a picture of how you make my hands tremble and how you make a lump in my throat every time you speak.

i’m now breathing the air that you stole
and it fills and spills into my heaving lungs

baby, why does your love hurt so bad?
you said everything that’s beautiful comes with pain, and darling, you’re a true masterpiece. i should’ve known.

i’m swallowing the lump in my throat
while you’re swallowing pills one by one

we’re not the same anymore, my love
you’re far too broken
and i am healed.

i want you to breathe me in as deep as you breathe in those packs of menthol cigarettes that you keep behind your ear just in case you need a quick fix. i never really understood, but you told me i don’t have to. live life in the fast lane.

your hands touched my body in ways friends don’t touch, but you told me we were just friends. friends touch each other and crave each other’s lust apparently.

lips tasting like fireball and cigarettes, i still crave that same taste when i’m kissing someone else but no other lips could satisfy me. why did you bury yourself six feet deep within me? this hurts so bad.

i remember the nights where you would lie with me, we would talk about the nonsense chaos in our lives and we’d share oxygen and smoke from each other’s lips

this is gonna be a long night, i can’t escape you. you’re stuck in my head, and you’re in my dreams. please go away.

i’m still in love with you.

the devil with jet black hair and ink covering his arms and chest, i can still taste his serpent tongue like blood and cigarettes ash on the lips of any lover, and i cry tears of shame and regret.

dear lord, people tell me they want to hold
my body and protect me from him
but i don’t want them to hold me because their touch burns like acid

i heard he’s been on a liquor and pill diet
my lover always liked the pain
that’s why they called him the ******* after all.

i have a throbbing aching heart in my ribcage that’s being accompanied by heaving lungs that are craving fresh air

i don’t know how many times i’ve lost my mind in the past hour, but i know i’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my shoulders.

your smile is making my knees weak
and it’s making aphrodite weep
it’s a beautiful reflection for firework eyes  

these are the haunted hearts we melt over
we’re melting on your cold tile floor
and i apologize for the mess

i’d wear your bones as a necklace
because i reek like death
and have your blood on my satin dress

but darling, don’t you know i’d die for you?

you claim that there is golden power dripping from the edges of your fingertips
you can make me beg for your touch
that you’re a god, and the man above is just a pretty delusion for us to hold on to something wholesome and sweet

i laugh at your tales
because in my mind, you will never curse me like you did those other girls
we’re both immortal when we’re together
the devil and his mistress
two angels that couldn’t redeem well enough

i like to think that i’m special to you
but we all know when you promise me something
you have your fingers crossed behind your back

i’m wondering if michaelangelo has finished the canvas painted on your body with ink, because my lipstick stains just don’t do the trick anymore

your hands are not golden
they’re charcoal
and you’re making me filthy

you are a holocaust

you are terror

but you are so divine in ways that i cannot bare to speak

you are my salvation

but you have a car crash in your chest cavity
and hellfire within your irises.

you spend every friday and saturday night
with white dust attached and sprinkled on your nose. sometimes you’ll tell me it’s a quarter of the moon, and all of the gods have to taste the galaxy too.

you sometimes scream that i’m the worst addiction you have ever endured and sometimes you whisper that you don’t want to quit me. you tell me without me you can’t live
that my hands send you to the highest heavens and my lips make you taste it

you claim that the universe is that spot between my thighs, you also claim you know the route to the underworld and to get there is by pulling my spine

you ask me if i can save such a ******* soul
because you are drowning in my love
and i tell you it’s gonna be okay
while i tie the anchor around your feet.

my heart is thumping against my ribcage
i feel the pulsing in my veins and the flickering between my eyes has me buzzing like a bee

my hands are cold
if they touch you
you’ll just freeze
and don’t even think about getting near my soul
you’ll just get frostbite

even though i’m warm flesh and blood
i don’t agree with the whole idea of love
and how we need it to survive
love has always been a kick to the gut
and i’m coughing up metallic

i’m begging you not to go
but shoving you out the door as i do so
you don’t know whether you should stay or leave
so you decide to take the easier route in the decision making
and you just leave

because you don’t want to deal with the anger i have towards myself and the resentment
so you leave
and i’m left with a hole in my heart

it’s faintly beating
but it’s still there

so i’ll let my therapist take a seat and get her notepad and i’ll lie about how i’m fine and you’ll lie about how you didn’t see the warning signs.

you have always burned bright, my darling angel, what is it that you’re hiding in that flesh and bone of yours? what is it that you’re fearing?

you always told me that you were so unloveable, but darling angel, i loved you until my bones began to ache and my beating heart could no longer fathom another person.

my hands playing with the fingers on yours seemed like a perfect masterpiece as we laid there on the trampoline in the middle of the night, talking about the world we never understood

you thanked the universe at night for it being me to you. i thanked the universe for finally being on my side.

but sometimes life can do terrible things
and now i’m crying to the thought of heartbreak while you said i ruined poetry for you

but being with you was euphoria
losing you was the unwanted comedown.

he was warm and his torso was wrapped with moonlight cologne, sweat & ink. he’s a filthy boy who loves being bruised up by innocent girls who don’t know any better, my hands are on his chest and my lips are touching his neck.

2. he was older. wiser. he made me forget who i was and i no longer knew myself because of him. but i loved him. so i got used to it.

3. i guess you can say he taught me how to make all of the pretty boys cry in euphoria and cry tears of neediness.

4. he had fingers that felt like acid, but also felt like a god putting me back together again after breaking me. his words cut me like a blade, but he kissed my wounds.

5. he didn’t love me, but i loved him. he claimed to, but i knew better. he was older. wiser. rougher. i was too soft for this man, but i got used to it.

you’re alluring yet elusive
cooler than the autumn breeze and anyone i have ever come in contact with

toss me in your car and we’ll go out for ice cream while you make promises you’ll swear to keep but we all know deep down, you have your fingers crossed.

you can show me the world or another bar, either is fine because i’m with you. you could even take me to a ******* dumpster and i’d still look at you with puppy dog eyes.

you can drench me in gasoline and alcohol
and maybe then that’ll help us forget the pain
that we both hold deep inside in our hearts
you can light me on fire afterwards then take pictures of my ashes and post it with some stupid caption

you have tattoos that tell a story and ink your ivory skin
you have the world wrapped around your finger

the tours, the girls, the ***. you have it all, and you’re still craving more. i cant give you anything because i know you’ll drop me once you get it. i’m not good enough.

you could paint your heart and soul any color
so why did you choose the darkest black?

i can’t pretend to not be utterly destroyed and enchanted at the same time by you. my chest physically aches and is sore whenever i get the urge to hold you close and you’re not here. it’s humorous. because i can’t imagine myself with anyone else, and i don’t want to be with anyone else, but you can make a list of the girls you’d give your heart to. none of them are me.

i can only imagine what it would be like to be in the hands of a god.
maybe the closest i'll ever get to heaven is when i'm standing next to you in front of a coffee shop and we're about to have an hour long conversation about the meanings of the world and what we plan to do with our lives. and if i'm being honest with you, (i'm never honest) i'm scared of the future. i'm scared of what happens next.

you said let the rest come easy, but easy for you to say, you have something going for you. you're the human embodiment of success, the embodiment of euphoric nature that i crave to feel.

i wonder what it's like to be touched by a god
can your finger tips graze my shoulders until they run down to my hips? can you touch me all over because i want to feel holy.
i've been feeling sick ever since i found out you exist.