Hey,
It's me again.
I just called to say
I miss the way
you'd sigh
when you kissed me

Do you remember
the night I offered
you the moon? You
refused, so I stole you
the sun instead
and you laughed.

I know it's late
and yeah, I've had
a few. You know it
makes me think
of you
and the music
of your breath
escaping and
expanding in the
cold air.

I can still smell you sometimes,
when the world is particularly empty.

I won't call again.
I just wanted to tell you
Goodbye. I love you. Goodbye.
Enjoy the Sun.

Now your blood floats in my veins, sweet toxic cleanse

Give my best to my family, and the rest to my friends

You're the cold flesh of winter, the ache in my bones

Watch the blacks of my eyes sink away like they're stones

So please tell me, please let me let myself in

Now my shoulders are heavier, than they've ever been

Burn all the photographs inside my head

Malevolence and memories are better off dead

And when I'm filled with solitude, silence, and sin
and the warm smell of nothingness seeps its way in
I hear the bell tolling and your voice in my head
so I start to clean up all your words that I bled
When I reach out for you, feel the coldness of air
Miss the grace of your skin, and the smell of your hair
And the raindrops start falling, mist in my eyes
Find there's nothing as hard to swallow as that last goodbye

I am sympathetic for Pluto
Not because I've lost my long-standing planetary status,
But because I am aware of how it feels to not fit Earth's criteria
and society's standards

I am not all a planet should be.

I am a leaky faucet in a flawless world,
Drip-dropping chaos into the absurd
I am a quiet brain saturating in happiness chemicals:
Serotonin and slow love songs.

I am an observer of the malicious mankind
Building, destroying, and leaving behind
I take quick visits to the sky
When I am lost in my mind.

I am a collector of things less than fine:
Quotations from poets and antiques from cloud-nine
I am the comforter of Plutonian souls our simple world forgot
I am supposed to be a planet, but a planet I am not.

You know
I still remember the sweet release of quiet chemicals
into my pulsating brain
the first time I kissed you.

You know
I won't soon forget.

You know
I still feel the silent tingle of your words
on my skin.
Desperate hands reaching, longing for you.

And you know
I can feel the warmth of the sunlight falling through your bedroom window
delicately wrapping us up together
while your head rested on my chest.

I can always smell your hair
when I inhale
and I love you
when I exhale.

But you know that.