i bury the hatchet and
my heart that bleeds and still
has grave dirt on the corners i can't reach
tells me that this time it is enough

how much longer must i pay
for the sins of women i don't remember

i suffer through a lens
as i make my grief acceptable
and lets the pieces fall in pretty patterns

i carry the burden of my hatred close
to the memories of my love.

i carry the cruel words said in careless tones
how you never apologize for anything you've done.

i carry the weight of words from others
to whom i have never asked anything of, not once
for their words are never to help, only to tear something out.

you are so viciously wrapped in your own vitriol
that it spills out, and you hold my hands and say
'why are you never enough?'

it is the comfort of youth to lay beside you
and know that if time leads us wrong
it will be a good memory

i was frustratingly
madly
deeply
recklessly
in love.

all on my own.
and you promised me stars
while you covered my eyes
and lied when i asked if that
was the sound of you leaving.

You enter uninvited and
Leave me at the door

You're all I've ever feared
Why can't I tell you I like your smile?

your touch was a sweet whisper
and you called my words a cure
for all that was broken inside you.

when my eyes were opened
i realized what you meant to rip away
was all the kindness
and leave nothing but the bitterness.

poetry written by fingers
have you ever tasted anything so sweet?

you kiss my skin once
and leave a trail of fingers on my body

this has all been written before by history
and each other.

with only shambles for a heart,
i grieve for the emptiness inside you
for it will swallow you whole.

and as we part, i will leave nothing
but new sands for you to drown in.

there is an odd storm in my chest
filled with missed steps and
there is always you somewhere

you are so very far and
so very lost in time
and i often wonder if we've crossed
paths before

have i seen you with glossed over eyes
were you a face in a crowd i did not want
to see?

never do you mind.

i hear that it helps to write down,
so that it goes into the world
you'll follow that red thread to me.

or is it the other way around?

you will -

make me laugh, that way that
hurts the back of my head after a while
the sweet pain of hilarity.

and you will hold me when all
i want is to crumble and despair
you won't make it alright.

but you will make it better.

i don't mind if you don't talk
(too much)
i talk and walk and rave enough
for a crowd
let alone for two of us.

it really doesn't matter if you're
not tall or a little short, or
just my height.
all it matters is that you have eyes
i can lose myself in and a sweet smile

or is that too much to ask?

i don't ask that you understand
how deep the waters run
only that when they crash against me
you know enough not to crack me further.

i ask only that you know how to weave peace
rather than riots and war

i have a battle raging eternal
i have enough fire to keep us warm.

falling seamless, it's the silence between us
that i don't notice and
never did silence linger so easily
i forget myself rather than you and
all i remember is the way you filled up
the room

i wrote always as a bystander
lives were words yet to be put down
a ****** of life and of the pain of others

the world was best experienced as tourist
never really there, just a stranger in a photo

'you'll barely remember me' i said
the sound of glass shattering beneath my heel

and i would wonder
'why are you so fragile?'

it was pain seen by a lens,
if i caused it, you'd understand
later rather than sooner
i need those tears to fuel my pit

how can i hurt if i'm not really there?
ghost of an idea you created
a fiction of smiles and words tailored

it was sweet when i was told
'you're softer than you look'
because how would you know?
i lie and i hide, i always warn but it's a
self fulfilling prophecy

i'd say i didn't mean
but i didn't care enough to think
so casually cruel, it was never me on the line.

i write this in confession of my crimes
because i've seen the result of what someone
more similar to me than i would like
did to you, my darling dearest

i'll mend you not to atone my sins
but to cleanse yours

it's care and concern that drip from these lips
and i make your pain ours, i make your frown
mine.

this is my love letter to you

the unavoidable emptiness of half hearts
always lingering where we should not,
and the variety of cynicism born
out of a desire to be proven wrong.

pressing up against your eyes, i see it too.
i see the reasoning slipping, my friend
you want it all too.

so recklessly we throw ourselves against the tides.

'prove me wrong, prove me wrong'
as the song comes out in a whisper that
perhaps nothing will ever be as good as it was.

you said you loved my lows
but it was the storms that ate you.

you promised you wanted my sharp corners
but they reminded you of all your cuts.

you swore you loved me fully
but that love drained you.

you confuse intensity with lack of reach
and i am a too much for the likes of you.

but why then does it feel like you left
taking all my love with you still?

my heart aches.

i hold on to my words and i weigh them
on the scales of your design, i must measure
every sentiment least it be toss out
at the altar of your discontent.

and every cruel word is remembered
and i hate that a little love is chipped away every time.

all the memories of my past selves have claws
from the fingers i pried off of them

i try to let it all sink beneath my feet but
you throw them back like plastic,
saying 'they're drowning the turtles'.

your hatred is relentless and
i don't remember what i did to be on the receiving end

it felt like coldness, a january night
the feeling of certainty leaving my body

when the numbness passed,
and my chest was made of raw nerves
and the tightness in my throat
made my eyes swell
i am sinking.

with empitness, you assured me
you might have never loved me.

fingers hover over keys and
i am, as usual, lost for words.
i cannot write about thing things
that really matter.

but i think to myself
' i need healing,
and peace
and quiet '

but you will no give me any
even if you do not know it.

i read somewhere
' if you want to let go of someone
do these things' it said

write a list of the things you dislike about them

so here it is:

you're always late even when you're early.
in fact
i don't think i've ever seen you be early
what the hell do you do?
how can you consistently be late to
everything the same way i'm always early?

that's effort to be that unpunctual.

you never finish sentences
because you're bored or you forget
what you were saying

you refuse to remember to do something
out of laziness and carelessness
and you said
' my parents tried '
not hard enough.

you keep thought hidden and
you lie out of convenience.
saying you like it when people
aren't politically correct.

i think you're just too scared
to say some things yourself.

scared?
lazy?
or just weak?

i'm not sure. but i don't like it.

you only help me when i'm sinking
and you don't like the way it looks.

you only seek me out when you
haven't seen me in too long
and you stumble on your words.

you never mentioned her in months
until you did and never again.

you never say her name.
why don't you ever say her name?
if it hadn't come up, would you have ever said
' i have a girlfriend'

i know how your voice sounds
when you speak about your sister
and your mother
and your father.

i know you eat together as a family
and your sister hasn't been visiting that often.
i could see the resentment on your face
when you told me about it.

you don't like sweets or chocolate
you always order coffee the same as mine
you thought it was strange that i didn't like bread
but you didn't seem to mind.

you said
' she's going to sit there '
and
' you looked worried, so i followed '
and
' we can talk about this at lunch '
and backtracked when i asked
how were we going to talk at lunch?
you had it twice in the common area
and left.

you don't like to be touched or touch
but you touch my arm and i've touched you
you didn't flinch.

you follow me around the room and
whenever i show up to talk to him
somehow you always end up by his desk

i walk in and you get up, walk around the room
either avoiding me or running from me

checking to see if i'm coming out to smoke
(yes i saw)

i dislike that you're doing this.
i dislike that i don't mind it at all.

my fingers trace the edges and
my rhythm is to the sound of your
sighs on my ear

gently, wet and slippery
feeling the sound of drums from your chest
i slip and lose myself inside you

bambi eyes, perfectly round and
just filled to the brim with innocence
you say -
please just **** me
when i look at you

Words unsaid, songs unsung
These poems slip through my fingers
Like stubborn sand that I can't bottle, I stare into eyes the colour of the sun
And I'm frozen

What words do I have left?