Put your mouth into mine and hold me like a tomb does. We've shared our bodies and our badness to the point of decay, we might as well keep washing our hands with each other's filth.
On the one night I slept for more than four hours, I dreamt that you had derailed a train with your your bare hand
it crashed into my front door and ran into my bedroom to see me, it pulled me atop it and the train was you
now i need you to cut up your passport and give it to the wind, I need you to set your past on fire and return to the ground with me, to consume with the only fire that will out mine out.
The fine line between you holding me and you holding me hostage is  wearing so thin that I can hardly see it, wearing, like the clothes I had on, the clothes I tore off in hopes of finding you somewhere beneath them, like a stupid girl does, like a stupid girl does, like a stupid girl does
I remember when you told me that I'd never see the good side of you,
right after you told me how easy it is for me to see the truth. And those words tasted nice , they tasted like power
You put dominance into the hands of submissive like an orphaned child into the hands of a widow, and you watched her run with it
I make a bet with myself that I can abandon you for more than a little while
I made a bet last September that I would hate you this September, but you keep slipping
into the arousal of the hatred you provoke in me and I keep saying your name into a hole in the ground like a song into a microphone. So listen. So listen. So listen.
A language is just the way the tongue falls in love with the body
I miss the days when I ached for you to put yours to mine.

People are the most spiritual things we have been given. Not even the trees are more, which we once thought were like the soul : when reached for, you knew was there. And always where you left it. There are some things in this world that you can spend your entire life searching for, and even if you never find it, it would still be worth every empty space you discovered along the way. We are defined by all the things we do not let ourselves forget. We are defined by what we allow the small pieces in ourselves to be. As in : you think your heartbeat is a thud, many of them, but they are all memories, you still keep alive. They are all the places you were at when things were so easy on you that the moments you lived in covered your skin like sunlight and just sat there like it had nowhere else to be.  Whether it be the sound of a baseball rolling off your fingers or the first time you almost wrecked your car and went on with your day, we are the things we do without noticing

bitter coffee helps camouflage the tremors
I shake my apologies inside closed fists and wait
for them to roll, always gambling for that final breath        
climbing beneath god's hands
reaching for empty bottles that offer cold handshakes
all the deals I made and now the devil has come knocking
on sharp metal and cracked windshield
her body will be found
in the midst of my soul's wreckage
I was given everything but love was found
in the glass bottom of momentary bliss
where an angel's shadow now resides
her memories will be turned into stories told by loved ones
that begin with "She was" and end in "If only"

if only I had lived a gentler life  
she was a catharsis for my demons

her death was the sound of everything ending

I keep rewriting this because I know it's the first time I'll write about you in weeks, and I don't think it matters how many letters I put together to spell out words that remind me of you because none of them will do you justice. You're too good for this. I want to become a better writer just so I can properly explain the color of your eyes because I want for whoever is reading this to know just how beautiful you are. I don't want to write something that isn't as good as you are. I know you probably don't think of me anymore but I sure as hell think of you and I am done apologizing for it. I'm not angry anymore but I still wish you'd come back to me. I know that one day you will or maybe I am just holding on to something that isn't really there. I'm tired of hearing your name and getting chills down my spine, tired of seeing something that reminds me of you and feeling my knees buckle beneath me. I don't want to remember you but I am scared of forgetting you.