Play love songs at my funeral
And bury me in red
Smile at the stories of my life
And do not speak of death
Bury me with peonies
And read me poetry
Maybe sing a lullaby
But do not cry for me.
Play love songs at my funeral
And drink more than you cry
Read sonnets to my gravestone
That says 'All men must die'
Play love songs at my funeral
Lay roses by my side.
Remember songs I sang to you
And dance to them all night.
Promise that you'll love me,
But don't always stay sad.
Play the songs we should've played at our wedding
And bury me in red.

my fire for you is sweet like
melted sugar and i
love that
and it's like kissing a shooting star that's about to **** you and it's
like holding a blue candle in your hands and realizing
you're so pale that the wax turns the color of the sky the day you
told me you wanted to be friends.
i want you to draw a city sky on my kite string arms and a road
of evergreens on my telephone wire hips.
i've never told you this... i never
wanted you, but i always needed you, and that's why i think i love you.
something whispers in my ear when
your fingers wisp through my hair that tells
me to laugh in your face when you tell me
you love me back.

it's like a smack in the soul saying
WAKE THE **** UP

and then i do, and you still love me...



even then.

once upon a time,
you asked me to tell you stories.
they never made sense but they made you laugh
but when it was your turn you'd shrug and look at the floor.
you can't weave fiction, you're too
cerebral,
ive always been the creative one.
now im stuffing your essays in the space between my ribs
and pretending thats enough.
youve always been more politics than poetry -
you hate poetry.
but you always came when i performed
(said my poems were the only ones you could stand.
said the others were static noise)
youre miles away, youre chasing cemeteries and im chasing you.
ive always been more
successful,
youve always been kinder.
when i cry you speak softly and i scream.
when you cry i laugh and you
go quiet
and i feel sick.
you still believe in duty and honor and
honest politicians
though i tried to convince you that everyone lies,
just like you.
i took you outside at night and taught you the only constellation i know,
told you about
desperate boys and girls like mountains,
and redwood forests at three a.m.
and blew smoke in your face.
now its your turn.
tell me a story.
tell me how they broke you to bits and built you up again.
tell me how youre afraid to die.
tell me how ive hurt you and youll never trust me quite the same again.
tell me about your favorite book
again,
describe the dragon so vivid my own monsters seem like broken dolls.
i'll offer you a drink and you'll refuse.
(i'm so sorry that you're gentle
and i'm cruel.
i'm sorry for treating you sweet then snapping your wrist.
come back.
this time i'll be kind.
this time i'll listen.)

ever since middle school my aorta knew it had found you, but you denied it for no more and no less of a quarter. you had nothing to offer except for a handful of broken promises and it was painfully obvious that you had set out to hand them to me. like a jigsaw puzzle i was to be left undone. there are pieces of me that are still scattered on the ground, waiting for you to come back and put me back together again. as time goes on i'm stuck, frozen on the idea that you and i could ever be together. its cold where i reside, on the outside looking in. you have the key to get inside, but you give it to anyone but me. i feel as if  i'm window-shopping for something i could never have. this one-sided love feels like stepping on sharp glass, never knowing where to go or step next. left or right? its a maze that never ends. when i'm positive i can find my way out, you throw me off. i think there's a spark but it turns out to be equivalent to a faulty 4th of July firework. i think it's time to put out the fire that never burned very bright, but if the ashes ever rekindle, you'll always be my light.