chalk outlines where I lay in the center of yet another linoleum tiled floor
brown eyes never looked so wild
& I was always told never to care for a wild thing
but you are captivating
and damaging
you take masochistic pleasure in watching me swim in this ocean of doubt you made for me
confusion sweeps me up in her arms and carries me up into the clouds, my vision blurs more so now, the fog creeps in on this island.
canopy beds snap at the sound of exotic birds buzzing in the background;
background, can't you just act like the island is deserted?
can't you just imagine their voices are further away?
we walked on soft seaweed but stepped on sea urchins along the way, and you couldn't heal both of us.
you can't always heal both of us.
sometimes the tide comes up to the palm trees and sometimes it only goes so far that we have to walk to it, meet in the middle
but all that matters is that there is still an ocean right?
would you even care if there wasn't?
would you still be doubting my every word, as if it was nothing more than the sound of sea breeze?

never again will I look into your eyes like they are the ocean.
you're not the ******* ocean.
you were never mysterious and charming
seashells pressed against my ear only muffled the words you said, what sounded like the soothing whisper of the ocean waves, were really the tides crashing violently onto the shore.
I lay now on this beach, I wait for a storm to follow me to my spot here on the sand, but I am left dry.
I see the water steady, and you are so far gone past the horizon, that when the sun sets, your silhouette is all that appears.
perspective sets in,
and I remember how you were a poisonous creature captivating me with every lethal injection the power of your words compelled.
I remember I'm alone.
I know that it's okay.
because you are not the ocean,
you are only one of its inhabitants,
and there are so many more creatures worth diving in for,
there are so many reasons to swim deeper.

TORN BEING WISHING YOU CARED ENOUGH TO FEEL BAD ABOUT HURTING ME
AND HOPING
YOU DON'T
HOPING YOU'RE OKAY
I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY
YOU HURT ME
BUT I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY
I LOVE YOU
I STILL DO
I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY
IT'S OKAY
IT'S OKAY
I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY
I WANT YOU TO HURT A HUNDRED TIMES
MORE THAN YOU HURT ME
BUT
I DON'T WANT YOU
TO BE HURT
I'M SORRY
I FEEL GUILTY FOR MY THOUGHTS
BUT
WHAT IF
YOU DON'T ACTUALLY CARe???
AND YOU'RE FINE???
I'LL BE THE ONE HURTING AGAIN
AND I GUESS
I'LL SETTLE WITH THAT INSTEAD OF
CAUSING YOU PAIN
I JUST WANT YOU TO BE OKAY
I'M SORRY
I'M SORRY ABOUT EVERYTHING
I DON'T KNOW
I'M SORRY FOR MYSELF
I THINK I LOVE YOU
BUT I'M
CONFUSED
I'M CONFUSED
I'M CONFUSED
DO I HATE YOU FOR ******* ME UP LIKE THIS?
DO I HATE MYSELF FOR LETTING THIS HAPPEN TO ME?
DO I HATE YOU FOR NOT CARING?
DO I HATE MYSELF FOR HOPING YOU DO?
BUT
I'M STILL
HOPING
YOU'RE
OKAY

beware when you fall in love
with an artist
be it a painter, a singer, or poet

for the artist will
paint you
with strokes and hues
in shapes of every kind

sing about you
with heartbreak lyrics
and feelings which rhyme

write about you
with the simplest words
and a secret message she wants to say

beware of the artist,
and her love
one wrong move
and you're an artwork in her display

You're right she won't be beautiful forever
you'll destroy her with your acid

when you kiss every inch of her beautiful naked body
you won't be looking into her soul but the flowers growing outside

The acid of your lips will touch her flowers where each and every one of them will die and what will be left of her will be her naked soul and that's when you will begin to run away and someone else would come and start pouring water onto her garden and make her believe she is beautiful once again and when she kisses her, the acid of her lips will **** again but this time she will stay

j.f

I have secrets written down on scraps of paper thrown underneath my bed but you're my biggest I took advantage of you and how you felt when I would make you smile I made you feel like a grain of dirt in my garden and I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I thought I was innocent and perfect that I could do no wrong especially to you but it was all a lie I made myself believe and you believe for so long I hate that I hurt you and I hate how I can't take any of it back I cannot stand the thought of you wandering around today or years from now thinking of me as a storm who did not do anything good but destroy it's precious surrounding I really pray that the thought of me does not pass your mind when you are sad and that I'm not pinned in the back of your mind but out of your mind I cannot stand to think that you will remember me as someone who broke you instead of someone who loved you

-something I wish she would say to me.

j.f

I promise you that you deserve better. You deserve someone who will call you late at night just to hear your voice and not let you fall asleep when you're mad, crying wishing I'd call you to tell you what you've been waiting for. I've poured all my poison into you that I can't pour the water to let the flowers grow again and Im sorry I'm really sorry I promise you that once you let go of me you'll be able to find the love that you wanted with me but with someone who deserves all of you

1:08 a.m. - I wish you'd say this to m

It'll be alright, darling. You'll find the spaces in between and curl up, and you'll finally be comfortable. Honestly, it will be okay. Stop pulling your hair out; she loves you too much.
It'll be nice, okay? Find the sun and other planets, put them in your back pockets like marbles, and be on your merrily way. Look in front of you. Your beloved it already with you. Stop looking around the room. Your neck is a small stick, what with that lollipop head of yours. It will all work out, yes. You took to the skies on a big mechanical hummingbird and went to another world. This is something you can handle. Revive your body; GHOSTS

you hold sparkly things like they are candles burning a timid flame
you held me like I was the flame
too hot to hold
and no not like I was some goddess you found in good faith but more like my passion was too strong for you
didn't you know that shiny new things all break the same
my flame may be the size of a cosmic flare but it burns out just as the small match you let go of years ago did
we let our ashes tell our stories for us
we promise to burn and burn and burn
but we are all burned out so what's left
what's so special in the rubble that brought you to your hands and knees?
what made you dig in the ashes?
would it hurt if I told you it was nothing at all?