You stab me in the back with a knife,
and I apologize for bleeding on it.

Your hands were like summer

But your heart was pure winter

'If a writer falls
in love with you
You can never die'
Even if this were true
I will **** you tonight
I will **** you tomorrow
Until I run out of ink
I will **** you
In each and every one
Of my rhyme-less poems
I will write
Of your death
In my blood
When my quill is dry
So when I die
You die with me
And you are dead
Even in immortality

3am is so unkind
to a lonely longing mind

Collab with Mike Hauser



I find myself more often than not
hanging by the sea
letting the tide pull out
the waves of doubt
that have so long
washed over me

Inhaling a scent so fresh
absorbing a tune so close to my heart
I linger, never feeling alone,
and wonder
Could I stay here
in this perfect work of art?

With the pastels that line
the sandy beach
the bright fluorescent
greens and blues
The pinks and reds
of the skies canvas
all mixed, in colourful hues

The swaying canvas of perfection
causes my doubts
to gently drift away
I watch them heading for the horizon
feeling soothed
by the rhythmic waves

I wanted to love you
But my walls were too high
And so you turned around
And walked away

I wish I had the courage to say
"Stay"
I wish I had the courage to say
"I love you"

And above all I wanted
The guts to kiss you on the lips,
Whisper and say,
"I love you, please stay."

Sometimes I think of you.
I think of you showing up at my house
in the middle of a snowstorm
with white roses,
hot cheetos,
High School Musical 3,
and your favorite sweater.
And you'd knock on my door
and I'd come running
and I'd open it up,
and there you would be.
You'd smile at me and whisper,
"I'm so sorry.
I made a mistake.
Please forgive me."
And,
because I love you,
I'd nod
and let you in.
We'd cuddle on the couch,
our bodies tangled in each other,
and we'd whisper,
"I love you."

Sometimes I think of you doing this.
Sometimes I believe that you are planning this.

But,
I don't know,
maybe I'm wishing for a Christmas miracle.
And,
we all know miracles don't exist.