i forgot what it feels like
to look at your face and feel something.

(NJ2015) All Rights Reserved

teenage lust in the form of him helping you undress,
but not lifting a finger to help you re-clothe.

teenage lust in the form of his hands navigating the galaxy of your skin, but straying from the black hole that is your mind.

teenage lust in the form of learning pluto isn't a planet
even after believing it was for so long.

teenage lust in the form of her experiencing
that of an event horizon
while he's orbiting other planets.

teenage lust,
you don't touch my soul.

(NJ2015) All Rights Reserved.

I like the moment before the rain,
when the sky is a light grey,
and the colours of spring trees
are vibrant in contrast.

It's the soft breeze before the harsh wind,
the clean air before the rinsing;
the beginning of something big.

Maybe that's why 'we' was more exciting
before 'we' officially became 'us.'

(NJ2015) All Rights Reserved.

I'm not saying I don't think about you, because I do.
i check my phone every morning
to see if you were drunk enough to text me;
I'm just saying, I think more about what you might be thinking
than I do of who you are.

don't get me wrong, things have changed.
you say sweet things to me now,
without the help of a clumsy tongue
or an empty bottle... or ten,
but I still can't wrap my mind around the idea
that you enjoy the taste of my lips
as much as you enjoy the sound of another drink.

you hold me like a glass
but you've never devoured me;
it's like a preference of white over red wine;
I look clear enough for you to think I'm empty,
and I'm not bitter enough to make you feel my presence.

I just wish you would indulge in me like you do the alcohol;
why can't you see that I too hold stories worth hearing;
if I can't cloud your brain, or make you stumble,
slur your words, and make you crumble;

than maybe I'm not your glass of wine,
rather I'm the wine itself;
drink me up,
I'll be nothing but a memory in the morning.

(NJ2015) All Rights Reserved.

who am I to judge
the way you run away;
you find the same escape,
just in a different way.

you drink until you're lost at sea,
a broken glass on the beach,
when someone tries to pick you up,
your rigged edges scare them off;
can't show others who you are
unless you're unaware of yourself.

she cuts herself open
just to spill it all out;
tries to bandage it up;
she's so scared of herself.

who am I to judge the way you escape?
we're all drowning in waters blocked off with caution tape;
'cause the ocean floor doesn't exist
until you try to place your feet down,
and don't feel the ground.

(NJ2015) All Rights Reserved.

Eyes brighter than the sun that acts as my heat in this cold world,
the smiles on their faces,
their loving embraces,
locked in each-others arms;
I'm tangled in the limbs of roughed-skinned trees and faceless barks.

A slap in the face from the wind is my kiss on the cheek,
their shelter is the roof above their head,
mine the endless blue sky.

Blue is all I've ever known.
I feel blue, I see blue,
faces turn into oceans at the sight of me;
they turn cold, they get scared, they rush at me like strong waves.
I cannot swim, I am drowning beneath the body [of water]
I have admired and adored.

My fantasies and dreams shoot at me with guns and sharp objects;
the one who could've understood me
was protected by those who think they understand him;
I can no longer keep running into the ocean
just to be continuesly thrown back to shore.

He throws me out to sea,
but yells at me when he steps on the  sharp pieces of me.

I am only a shell;
I am fragile.

You're yelling at me for hurting you,
you're the one who hurt me.

(NJ2015) All Rights Reserved

there are no surgeon general warnings
about boys with sunlight eyes and dark voices,
of boys who speak meaningless words and irrational sentences
in such a way that even the greatest philosopher
would secondguess himself.

with a voice that colours silence,
and a gaze like the moon lights the night sky,
his glare will turn your head into a meteorshower,
thoughts colliding, breaking, seperating.

it's his third cigarette, and smoke is clouding up the room,
he closes his eyes, exhales the nicotine carelessly,
leaning against the wall, so at peace,
and all you can do is happily drown,
your self-control more intoxicated than his lungs.

the blinds revealing whats left of the sunlight on white walls,
scattered light, faded patterns -faded thoughts
you love the sunset, but you can't take your eyes off of him.

cigarettes and cigars are labeled with warnings,
'may 'cause heart disease'
but they forget to label the boys that leave you breathless,
the boys that hold your heart in one hand, and a cigarette in another;
the boys the know the best way to set something on fire for pleasure.

(NJ2015) All Rights Reserved.