A serious face glares through the snow,
peering to the depths. The city hums
with the pierce of sirens, the murmur of shouts.

His pulse slows, His body thrumming. He is another part
of a jutting skyline. A heartless moon bathes the scene.
A lost battle. A massacre.

A broken ragdoll below warm the pavement,
beauty set in stone. The flakes track the dark leather,
pooling on the granite, being watched

Yet oblivious, the eyes glow through the screen.
Too much shadow for a plain bedroom, too much normality
For the sordid abyss of Gotham.

Has such insignificance always bred heroism?
Hours on laptops create such brooding scenes
of emotions that you cannot understand.
But who can understand the solitary idol?

Before it became a crush,
we were family friends.
You slipped in and out of my parent's parties.
I saw you only in passing.
We were never introduced...

...formally, that is.
The first time I saw you out of my house
was that night.
The night we first spoke.
You comforted me and
cradled me in your arms.
I was with all my best friends,
but you and I seemed to fit so perfectly.
Some say we took those first steps too quickly.
It wasn't love right away, but I was
intrigued by you and your
sense of warmth.

After nights similar to the first,
I began to think of you a lot.
If a weekend would pass without you in it,
in me,
it was incomplete.
I yearned for your touch
and the way you made my skin prickle.
My lips tingle in the thought of you now.

At the beginning, it was simply fun with you.
Innocent fun with no repercussions.
That is when I learned to love you.
I loved how you didn't have a plan or sense of direction.
You were spontaneous.
I was insecure and fragile, looking for someone,
something,
just like you.
At first, you brought out the best in me,
showed me that when we were together,
I meant something,
and I will always thank you for that.

There were times when I questioned your worth.
Some nights you would engulf me,
take everything of me,
chew me up
and spit me back out.
You never threatened me, or hurt me.
I just loved you so much that I would do anything you said.
Maybe I was angry with you in the morning,
but I always forgave you the next time we were together.
Run up to you and hug you, and you would kiss me twice on each cheek.
Like you always had.
As if nothing had happened.
Somehow promising that tonight would be better.

From that first night to now,
our love affair has been consistent.
I always want you
and your smooth touch.
And even after every time you put me down.
You're always the one to pull me back up.
I've shared so many memories with you,
dark and messy nights,
poetic and spiritual ones too.
Every time I hear your name or
know that you are near,
my eyes widen.
I bite my lip and smile.
I get shaky and anticipate your arrival.

Some people love you superficially.
They are the ones who don't easily forgive.
But you know that I will always love you.
Some will try to tear us apart,
saying that you don't love me back.
That you can't.
They've tried and lost.
Even if I don't directly receive love in return,
the way you make me feel, and act, and cry,
lets me know that you do love me.
You are the only one who can hurt me
as much as you have,
and know that I will always run back into your arms.

Strange are the days when I don't run
strange are the days when I don't smile
strange are the days without sun

rare are the days without water
rare are the days without laughter
rare are the days without prayer

uncommon are the days which are quiet
uncommon are the days without music
uncommon are the days without stories

the feelings missed
hormones not released
leading to a chemical imbalance

the rarities of life sometimes good
yet other times leaving a void

Days are given
days are numbered
each filled with its own misery and splendor

No entiendo, pero te comprendo
Aun así no paro de pensarte
el día empieza sin haber abierto los ojos cuando te apareces en mis sueños
nadie se ha levantado

I'm a lost cause
sorrow in disguise
I'll trick  you into faith that disappears before your eyes.
Convince yourself to trust me
I'll
       make  
                   sure
                            to
                                   let
                                         you
    
                                                    
           ­                                           fall.
Please just take my warning
don't believe in me at all.

Because tomorrow I will be almost thirty,
I've decided to buy a house
with rolling floors, windows all painted shut
by the ones who abandoned it last winter
who didn’t worry about stiff paint brushes
drying to the countertops, stout furniture legs
and the oil in the rain slipping down the street.

Somewhere there are layers
of the dead that make up the soil,
paleozoic dirt clods hatching bone seeds
and plumes of thatch. And from behind
my book on the many uses of short kitchen knives
I remember the feel of my forearm
against a deer’s neck—watching myself
in the black glass eye
and reaching in deep for blood
like a pioneer in snow.

I cannot
and I will not
No, I cannot love you less
Like the flower to the butterfly
The corsage to the dress

She turns my love to dust
my destination empty
my beliefs scattered: Diaspora!

Who set this course - and why?
Now my wings beat -
without purpose
Yet they speed...