and isn't it funny how
i spent each second of last night
listening to that **** clock tick
from 3am til 7
but the second i was in your arms
sleeping was almost as easy
as breathing

maybe my biggest mistake
was never learning how
to regret you

i so desperately wanted for you
to kiss the air back into my lungs,
to inject yourself into my bloodstream
until i understood how to feel 'alive'
not to love me
but to lust after me with the intensity
of a million thunderstorms
but instead
you dug graves into my bones
and buried me alive
with the thought of you

at your first swimming lesson, they teach you to breathe through your nose and let air out through your mouth to avoid swallowing water and although i listened closely, i may have missed a step because i am sick to death of wishing myself six feet underground but my love, it's not an easy feat to breathe with litres of salt water flooding your lungs

i am an avid non believer in many things
but sweetheart, i believe wholeheartedly
that your mind works in the most mysterious of ways,
that your body's framework is built on nothing but constellations,
that your eyes encompass thunderstorms and
that if you bled, you would bleed golden galaxies.
do not get me wrong, i remain a non believer
in happy endings and romance and love that lasts
but oh my god, even the shortest presence of your gasoline-being
could set a wildfire alight inside of me.

scientists say that a fingerprint develops when a baby is only 12 to 19 weeks along and that it is impossible for two people to develop the same print and although i believe in science i am still hoping there is a chance that someone in the world might have the same etches on the tip of his fingers as you did because to find the same hair colour and the same eye colour and the same smile is almost too easy but your touch against my skin made even the brightest of fireworks envious and darling something like that is irreplaceable

darling i have a lot of spare time and lately i have been using it to compare us to a game of bowling and maybe that seems like a wild comparison to make but quite frankly if i pretend that you are a bowling ball and my heart is the bowling pins and you have just knocked them down in a brilliant strike and celebrated it then it isn't as absurd as it once seemed, is it?

you have a reputation
for being a bad boy
for tearing girls down
and baby, i thought
i'd be different
that i might be the good girl
that can sway you over
and baby, you were
just that much stronger
i drink now
and i lie now
i foolishly trust now
and i even curse now

i wasn't like this
before you

it's raining and i can't help but
think about how funny it is that
even rain starts and stops and darling
last night i spent hours burning matches
that flickered and faded and left little
marks on my skin and everything
seems to come and go and believe me
i'm okay with that but you were the one
thing i was hoping would stay

i'd rather you tell me
those sickly sweet three words
as an april fools joke
than never hear them at all
and i think
that makes me pathetic and weak
but god,
i've never loved anyone
as much as i love you

come here
limbs laced in cotton sheets
my bottom lip between your teeth
tell me the blood drawn tastes like cherries
when we both know it's made of tar
trace a world map on my hipbones in bruises
mark the capital cities with your fingernails
millimeters deep into flesh
let your breath on my neck tell me stories
about who you are and where you've been
your mind spilling ink on pillow cases and skin
and with the left side of this mattress weighed down
let me pretend your hollowed bones
are more than a momentary home

maybe i fell  in  love  with the
way  you  would  look  at  me
and look away when i caught
you staring or maybe i fell  in
love  with  your   smile  when
you felt brave enough to keep
your gaze and maybe i fell  in
love   with   your  demanding
personality and your reckless
ability to abandon everything
or  maybe  i  fell  in  love with
your     dreams,     fears     and
twisted    thoughts   and   you
only   fell   in   love   with  my
s      u      r        f       a      c      e

if you were wondering
i'm doing much better, baby
only every second thought
is about you now

i am a hopeless disaster
of bones that run hollow
and blood that runs tar
but you,
baby you're a constellation
a firework exploding with
infinite galaxies
palms lined with gold

let me rain a little
on that parade of yours

i hope you find me
on the tongue
of every girl you kiss,
at the bottom of
your cup of tea,
in the sand
that lines the backseat of your car,
in the moments
after 11pm,
in everything
that belonged to you and me.

the back of my hand
is so unfamiliar
compared to the
brown
of your eyes,
the stray hairs
on your chest,
the pace
of your breathing,
so unfamiliar
compared to
*you.

you,
are a glazed lolly
a crystallised sugar coating
with jagged edges
and a sickly sweet inside that i could
never quite reach,
constantly and consistently cutting
my hollowed cheeks on your
razor blade edges
and ironically,
the blood building in my mouth
has more volume than the metallic liquid
filling your veins
and surprisingly,
i have learnt to more loathe you
than love you anymore.

i once read somewhere
that sometimes when you meet someone
there’s a click
not love at first sight
but a click
so honey,
what am i meant to do if you’re my click
and i was just the cheapest version of craft glue
you could get your hands on?

i want to tangle my fingers
in your hair
and my legs
with your legs
and my lips
with your lips
breathing,
   slowly,
      softly.

i want to kiss
your temple
your jawline
and just beneath your ear
your lips suppressing
the most tempting sound
breathing,
   slowly,
      softly.

i want to watch
your chest
inhale
exhale
and your eyelashes flutter
while you sleep
breathing,
   slowly,
      softly.

i want to wake up
with a heavy weight
on my chest
your head
resting delicately
on my stomach
breathing,
   slowly,
      softly.

i don’t want to see you
gently wake
fists brushing your eyes
hands running
through your hair
eyes eyeing the door
breathing,
   increasingly
       faster.

i don’t want to watch you
as you lightly hold
that golden handle
the way
you cup my face
in your hands
breathing,
   increasingly
       faster.

i don’t want to breathe
as you open the door
head moving
wanting to look back
but flicking forward
gone
breathing,
   increasingly
       faster.

i want to scream
shout
cry out your name
hurt you
for leaving
for existing
breathing,
   increasingly
       faster.

i don’t want to watch
my fingers trembling
my lips
moulding to form your name
my mind
whispering

you,
you,
you.

always
you.

never escaping
you.

breathing,
   increasingly
      faster.

I AM SO ANGRY
WITH YOU
AND WITH ME
AND IT FEELS ALMOST AS THOUGH
YOU LEFT YOUR HANDS
IN MY CHEST WHEN YOU
REACHED IN
TO STEAL MY HEART
AND NOW THEY'RE ACHING
TO BE FREED
AND I CAN FEEL THEM CLAWING
INSIDE OF ME
AND I CAN FEEL THEM
REACHING UP MY THROAT
SUFFOCATING ME
REMINDING ME
THAT YOU'RE NOT HERE ANYMORE
THAT YOU WERE NEVER HERE
TO BEGIN WITH

i’ve been sitting here
for more hours
than i can count on one hand
attempting to describe the way
i can feel my chest crushing into pieces
in a poetic way that sounds beautiful
but this isn’t beautiful
this is a ******* disaster
you are a hurricane that is destroying me
you are the coffee that slips out of my hand
and stains the walls when i’ve spent hours
and hours cleaning
you’re a ******* ******* natural disaster
laced with irrationality and mood swings
and you are killing me

you
are
killing
me

39 days and i'm beginning to forget the way you look
sleepy eyed, half dressed and next to me

they tell  you  that  when  you  meet  'the one',
you just know. there are fireworks and sparks
and  your  heart  finally  begins  beating like it
should  but  no  one  told  me  that  i'd  be  in a
*******   library  and  i'd   look   up,   feel   my
stomach  drop  to the floor and sell my soul to
a  boy  that  appeared  like  a  dream  but  was
made                 of                 hell's                 fires.

i spend most of my time crying and listening to the same ******* front porch step song and it's ironic because the song is called drown and that's exactly what i want to do and i can't tell if i want to drown in an ocean or drown in you but i guess they both come with the exact same feeling because i am suffocating either way

he has a smile
that shines like a million stars
and eyes
so full of hope
but when he laughs
i hear your deadly snicker
and when he smiles
i miss your mischievous grin
and when he looks into my eyes
i crave your lustful stare
and as i let him build me up
i'm begging for you to tear me down again

a handful of texts
each wrapped with a ribbon that read
“you should see me”
lead up to this moment
it lead up to your fingertips
reaching into my soul,
your favourite song echoing
in my mind,
making tea
just the way you like it
(when you like it, it’s occasional),
traffic reminding me of
your face when a terrible driver angered you,
the tap of your fingers
against the steering wheel,
the calm of your voice
against my irrationality,
you
leaving,
waking up
to remember that you’re gone
all over again

25 kilometers
from my house to home
to the place where you made me guess
which baby in the photo was you
to the place where i learnt more about you
from what was on your desk
than from anything you had ever said
where i spent hours on your bed
and watched cartoons with you all afternoon
25 kilometers
from home to my house
to the place where you parked your car
shook your head and said
"just stay calm," laughed
and never spoke to me again

i haven't written in 3 days
and i guess i've lost my muse
cause lately, you remind me
of blank walls
and empty spaces
but maybe that defines
exactly what's become of us

i swear to god i have not felt my heart beat a single ******* time since the day you walked out of my life and even though i have no idea how to drive there is nothing more that i want right now than to pick up the keys to a car and crash in hopes that the impact might force the blood to flow through my veins again

i look at you
and my mind rehearses

lines of poetry,
words that define
the creases around your eyes
and the way
the deep brown haze
glimmers like a million stars,

sentences that describe
the way
your smile taunts
even the saddest of minds
into recreating that
perfect half moon,

emotive imagery
that instills
every heart in the universe
with the feelings
that you
cause mine

but no words
can summarise
the details of you
because you are
complex
and eternally endless.

if i was nicotine
i’d kiss your lips
leave my taste on your tongue
and inject you with the most lethal dose of myself

i’d swim through your veins like bad *******
leave your knees quivering
body shaking
tracing patterns along your jawbone

i’d make your throat burn like dry whisky
make your mind swirl
consumed by thoughts
you can’t arrange

i’d leave you with wasted efforts
to keep you addicted
marks along your skin remnant
of my short lived hold on you.

It has been 309 days since last Christmas. 309.  On Christmas eve, you sent me a message and wished I would be in your bed when you woke. I replied, and I wished that you'd be under my tree. On the 25th day of December, you wished me a Merry Christmas and and asked me if I had forgotten how tall you were (I had not seen you in over a year), there was no way you would fit under my tree, and signed it with an 'x'. I laughed and told you that you could try anyway. 7 days after christmas, the 1st of January, you wished I was with you and kissed no one at midnight and I thought, oh my god maybe this time things will work out. Maybe this time you'll be mine. And in between trips to your favourite spots, the sand underneath our feet, constant messages, photos, mornings in your arms, funnily enough, you were. Mine. Though it was never in the ways I wished you were, you still were. And then you weren't. Messages were ignored, I didn't understand what you wanted, you didn't understand what I wanted and suddenly 6 months passed without seeing your face. There are 55 days until Christmas, 54 until Christmas eve and this year, you'll wake up with her in your bed or maybe you'll make do and crouch under her tree and you'll kiss her when the clock strikes 12 on the 1st of January and I will wish that you were here and **** the time for changing who you were to me and who I was to you.

you are still made of
the same stardust
that used to light
my entire sky

but as the sun rises
the moon must fall
and the stars only know
how to follow

i required permanence
in the form of your heartbeat
echoing in my chest
and you required transience
in the form of lips colliding
and skin touching

i used to be yours

i didn't think you cared,
but you told me at 6am
that you hoped
you don't wake me up
and it's strange
because two months ago
you were pleading
to my silent phone
for me to wake
but i guess this is your way
of saying you still care
even though we hadn't spoken
in 23 days

i once met a boy
who had eyes as dark as a storm
a face as beautiful as mona lisa’s smile
and a personality as reckless as a hurricane
and he spent his days
hiding his sadness in music
and slashing his pretty little wrist
wincing as the blood ran down his arm
and sighing when the feeling of ‘alive’ hit him
deeper than the wound he had inflicted
only for the joy in his eyes and the freedom in his veins
to fade back into hollowness
almost straight away

you were a cheap high
that never lasted long enough
and for ***** sake,
i am shaking like a recovering addict
without you around

[11:17:14pm]
it's been thirty five days or
eight hundred and forty hours or
fifty thousand four hundred minutes and
i've spent almost every single night
crying

[11:25:29pm]
i wonder if you remember how you felt
when you rolled over in the morning and
there i was, next to you
i wonder if you knew
that at that moment i had
never seen someone so beautiful
in my entire life

[11:34:31pm]
my mother says you can tell a lot
about a person from what
their hands are like
whenever i think of yours i can
still feel the patterns you spent forever
tracing on my back

[11:37:58pm]
i drove down  
every single road it took
to take me home that one night and
i'm still curious as to why
you took the long way home

[11:41:56pm]
i spend a lot of time thinking, wondering
1. about you
2. still, you

[11:46:38pm]
i forgot how to stop
when it came to us
i should have known it
would be 11:46:38pm
thirty five days later
and i would still be writing
about the boy who didn't
give a ******* ****