i was a graveyard,
especially between four & six
in the morning
and at night

a graveyard,
awakened

empty water bottles
and half smoked cigarettes
like tomb stones
marking the places
where my veins broke off
and flooded my bedroom floor

the labels
printed on them
read like the names
of all the ghosts
that like to dance
at the foot of my bed
when sleep is
the end to a 90s
hip-hop song,
fading out,
slowly
slowly
quietly
quietly

three out
of seven
nights,
the dancers
are ex-lovers
with my flesh
still stuck between
their razor sharp teeth
& they smile at me
but there's this manipulation
hidden in their pupils,
screaming warning calls
about track marks
and bruised knees,
not from me,
not from me,
they're ghosts of infidelity

four out
of seven
nights,
the dancers
are friends
who met
tragic ends;
blonde hair
decorated in
dried blood
from smashed glass,
by a telephone pole
on a rainy night,
and pulsing veins,
if i focus in close enough
i can see the liquid
chemicals coursing through
beneath that electric blue,
just a little more
& he's passed out on
some ******'s basement floor

i've been a graveyard
since i was 14

but now things are changing,
dirt is kicking up,
dragging those ghosts
back under the soil

i think
your green eyes,
your pale skin,
your flourescent teeth,
and the way your voice
travels from the kitchen
on gentle waves
to your bedroom
is the storm
that's burying
the dancers
again

please don't leave me,
wandering around
with dying flowers
in my palms

i like the way the tip
of your nose
is cold
and soft

i like the way your sheets
feel around my
boney ankles

i've gotten used to
the rhythm of your
upstairs neighbor's
spanish rock,
it lulls me now

i've gotten used to
the rhythm of your
roommate's
snoring,
even in the afternoon,
it lulls me now

i've gotten used to
the creaky floors,
the dripping water,
the hum of the radiator

i've gotten used
to your breath on my ear,
your lips on my neck,
the way your voice
melts down into
a puddle on the floor
when you talk about
your sadness,
i don't even
step over it anymore,
i cup it in my hands,
and let it slowly
drain through
my shaking fingers

please don't leave me,
i'm not safe yet,
but i'm getting there,
i'm safer here
than anywhere