the museum of my heart
has a blurry picture of his green eyes
the boy whose I name I never knew

there's a special exhibit
of all the bathrooms I had a breakdown in

there's polaroid pictures hanging
of all the friends I lost through the years
and all the friends who lost me

there's the poetry I wrote about them
words written in red ink and messy handwriting

there's statues of copper and tin
of all the lovers who couldn't love me

there's a constant humming of white noise and lo-fi
echoes of unspoken words I kept and ones I never heard

there's a selection of wingless butterflies
and a collection of blunt pencil sharpener blades

there's a basket of fortune cookies
and every single piece of paper carries the same aphorism:
"amidst the loneliness, the things you loved will forever haunt you."

there's old tv sets and a stack of DVD's
of all the films I wish I'd seen

there's all the skeletons I've hidden
secrets written on napkins and snuck between the wall cracks

there's a brand new guillotine and a golden noose
carefully kept for anyone who tries to hurt me

there's blackberry trees, an open ceiling
and dark splatters covering the ground beneath it

there's a chapel with empty seats and burned bible verses
rose petals and pink, lilac and blue candles
where an altar waits for a future love's mementos

there's a fountain of sweat, blood & tears

there's me standing in the corner
waiting to hand you your ticket and lure you in

there's angels and devils praying that you make it to the end of the tour

when you stop reading their horoscope
when the things you used to find charming
start making your stomach churn
when the butterflies turn into eye rolls
you know that it's over
you know that it's time to go

when the love that you give is bigger and brighter
than whatever it is that you get in return
when you realize that loving you is a lesson they'll never learn
when you run yourself dry
by watering a lover that will never grow
you know that it's over
you know that it's time to go

when you're more enemies than lovers
when you start sitting across from each other
when the kids become witnesses
of dinner table cold war battles
when those three words
turn into silent screams in the depths of your throat
you know that it's over
you know that it's time to go

like haunted steps on a newly built mansion
like all the traumas you never mention
like breathing through your mouth
like crying when the lights are out
like wishing you lived in a soundproof house

maybe one day I'll walk the way we walked together
hand in hand,
arm around neck
and my heart will ache
so I'll have to change my ways
do a detour so that I don't see you in that corner,
by that shop,
in that alley.
and I'll have to explain what's changed to whoever walks with me
but for now
I'll smile whenever I walk by that corner,
that shop,
that alley.
why should I think about tomorrow when today's been so deliciously sweet to me?

Time passes me by and I realize I'm so much bigger and yet so much smaller than I hoped to be.
I don't watch good films. I don't read enough or write enough. I don't think enough.
I don't play guitar; a couple chords is all I know, I'm afraid that's as far as I'll ever go.
I don't sit and write songs on paper, I type them out and forget about them ten minutes later.
I don't have people I can call friends; at least not anymore.
I've distanced myself from everything and everyone I ever loved.
I don't speak spanish, french or romanian. I've never seen the ocean or been kissed on the lips.
I only know a couple words in italian.
I don't go to parties. I don't have a job or a good credit score.
I don't have pretty handwriting. My mom doesn't like me; she might love me sometimes, but she doesn't like me.
My father doesn't know me,
I'm afraid by now he forgot how to pronounce my name.
I spin in circles and dream of a life of happiness, love and fame.
I dream of picking my own wall paint and moving my furniture around the place.
I dream of saying I own this house and everything inside,
myself included.
I can close my eyes and enjoy some expensive wine,
I earned it.
I dream of a lover who understands that I might be happy but no amount of love could ever ease the pain or heal the hole in my brain.
I let the good thoughts escape,
the bad ones remain.
I dream of someday being able to look at my left hand and not see the purple-hued bruise that my mother left behind when she pushed to the floor that one time; it's not the first time she hits me or steals me from my dignity,
I should be used to it.
I close my eyes and I allow myself to feel the pain.
My body is weak.
I feel her dragging me to the bathroom and yelling at me.
The pain is everywhere,
I'm too dizzy to think.
The neighbors listen to her screams, my cries
But they pretend it's alright.
So the next morning when my math teacher asks me why I missed class
I look down, then he looks down and asks me why my hand is lilac
I tell him I fell, it was late at night and I didn't have my glasses on,
It's alright,
I fell.
I take the test I missed. I hold back tears while reading words that look like greek to me
I fail.
I could have died that night.
I could have died the next day.
I spent the next three years thinking about committing suicide.
She tells me she's sorry, it won't happen again. That was the last time she ever laid her hands on me; out of pity or fear that she might end up committing an inescapable felony.
She tells me she loves me,
I tell myself that love doesn't feel like daggers buried deep into your left hand.
Those broken bones never mend.
I'm almost twenty now,
I was fifteen then.

why must I wait on your words
maybe you don't even use pen and paper
or a set of ink
I know me better than you ever will
I'll look in the mirror and write

"oh her eyes! two black holes ready to swallow my soul!
how I wish I had a soul to spare
I'd give another to her
maybe leave one in repair
I'd proudly say
"those black holes? they've swallowed two of my souls!"

and sign with your pen
pretend that it's you
this poem
every word I write in your name
all of me
yours to take

patiently, cruelly waiting on you,


a future lover.

you deserve someone who will stay up all night with you until everything is alright and you can finally close your eyes
you deserve someone who'll make you brewed coffee in the morning and won't need to ask you if you're doing fine
because they know you better than anyone else, including yourself.
you deserve to be kissed every single day
every hour and every chance
you deserve food and pillow fights 3am
and someone who will hold you so tight you'll be able to see the stars and galaxies no one has ever seen before
you deserve the kind of love that'll make your voice sound softer over the phone speaker when it's late at night and your roommate is asleep
you deserve the kind of love that'll keep you warm on days when the sun is hidden and snow is falling
you deserve every kind of love
you deserve someone who'll love you better than I ever could

I've been thinking about all the skies I've been under
and now my head is spinning
and I'm feeling sick
and that's  how I felt
when I fell for you
but I'm not falling
I have both feet on the cold floor of my hotel room
at 3 in the afternoon

I'm all alone
I need you so much closer
more than you'll ever know
I need you now
I just need you to know
that I love you so

I bet you're driving too fast
or staring at the stars like we used to do
our glory days I must say
they're behind me they are chasing me
these memories keep hunting me
and it's ever darker
now that you're not here

you can't see
she's dead inside
been strong for too long
she wonders what it's like to give up
take a few steps
jump
fall
break
just a few seconds
in front of a train

a few cuts where nobody sees
takes the pain away
but she can't breathe
another one
three to bring luck
it's the last time


she meant it.

she can't open her eyes
she can hear the sirens
"Please don't get in time"
she prays
now her mama is crying
her brother still wonders why
her father is dying
and everybody loves her
and everybody misses her

they're just lying
she whispers to herself before walking away
it's easy to pretend now that I'm gone
I wish you had said all those things to make me feel strong,
I'm sorry for not feeling sorry
alittle too late now

I wish I wasn't so good at lying
I felt broken and sore
I cried black tears on the kitchen floor
I fell
you didn't catch me in time
and now you watch me
and there's nothing but fresh tears in your eyes and dark ones around mine

being warmed by empty coffee mugs at 3 in the morning
trying to decide whether to give up or go to sleep
the blood rushes throught my veins
as I silently pray for you to choose the second option

at 4 in the morning I'm wandering around the backyard
holding a coffee cup filled with red wine.
God only knows how much I curse the day I met you
I curse you hazel eyes and the way you danced barefeet in the moonlight.
I curse the lovers that went wrong and I hope they forever regret
not holding you closer while they owned your soul
and I'll take that curse as a bridge to curse myself for being one of them.

I could never ask for a second chance to look at you
but you deserve love in rawest kind of way
I could never give you anything compared to that
so may the scars your arms never serve as a keep your distance or
a danger sign
and may you find someone whose loving kisses will heal you better than time.

I don't want you to see this as an open letter or an apology
I still haven't found a way to apologize about things I couldn't control
without letting a poisonous lie burn my lips.

you were never one to read
I hope you just scan your eyes over this
but if you take your time to read  more than three words
I hope you understand that I never meant to hurt you
I hope you realise that I never asked for your love
because I would prefer to hear you whispering how much you hated me instead of reading pretty little words without meaning.

I don't wish you well
but I hope you don't think about me as much as I think about you
I would hate to have my name carved on every inch of your skin

I hope you don't remember my voice
playing old scratched records might make your ears bleed.

during some periods of the day you seem to still be here
and in those moments part of me is trying hard not to fall in love with the memory of a person I should forget


oh dear
may you never find yourself in the eyes of a stranger
may those cold September nights never carve another mark your thighs
may God allow you to urderstand that he made you whole.
may you never let ***** hands touch your heart or soul
may you find both roses and thorns
and may you learn that getting hurt is an important part of life.
may you laugh at the good times and forget about the nights you cried yourself to sleep

may you break
may you fall
may our paths cross
over and over again.

sixteen

long brown hair, foolish eyes and a heavy heart beating against her chest

sixteen

still waiting on a prince
or maybe just a boy that will make her feel like she's not the one to blame
someone who will hold her tight when the voices inside her head start screaming at her for no reason at all
or a bright smile to light up the fire she used to have behind her sad brown eyes

sixteen

no ambition or fears
aiming to make it to next year with no scars on wrists and no demons under her sheets
because lately the sky is holding its stars
and she can't make a wish

sixteen

hanging on a tiny string of gold
waiting on a hand she will never hold
waiting on a boy she will never know

we spend hours waiting on a call that will never come
and in our craziest dreams we dream of that someone knocking on our door
even though we know they live miles and miles away
we spend our nights smiling because of an 'I love you' that had no meaning
but was able set a bright fire in our foolish hearts
we lose nights of sleep because the thought of that 'I love you' being told to someone else destroyed every bit of sanity we still have
we're just girls
breaking our own hearts

we're being watched by angels
and they're not amongst us
nor above us
that may sound sad to some of us
perhaps that's why we feel like it is our
Devine
Right
to throw ourselves on frozen tears  
print their celestial image with our evil template

when it's sunny outside
when the sky is tearing apart
they are hidden in the shadows
but their eyes are full of light
and they can see us

even if we're broken
or with both eyes closed
even if there's bright red blood running down us
running down our legs and arms
even if we're fascinated by breaking the
"stay behind the yellow line" rule
even if we had to learn that
h
u
             m
             a
             n
               s

c        
a  
n

       n              
o
      t

f      
l
      y


by following the rough path and checking it out
by ourselves

they know that there's bright red blood
running down our backs
and we can't see it
nor feel the pain of having our wings taken



  a w a y

once on a broken bench
on a yellow road
and old man heard a faint voice calling
weak hands reaching out for him
he found a teary eyed pair of cracked hazel eyes
looking for the wrong answers
to the right questions of silent voices
that no one else could hear