I won't sleep tonight
   Because I can't do so
       In your arms
   Because my bed
       Is too cold

I'll stare at the ceiling
   Because I can't
       Hear your breathing
   Or feel the rising
       Of your chest on mine

I'll be awake for days
   Since I cannot find one to
       Occupy the this vacancy
   Someone to clot
       This open wound

I'll bleed to death
   Not from thinning blood
       From trauma and not enough
   Arms to pat me
       On the back

I'll rise out of my
   Lifeless husk and
       Show you what you're missing
   Look inside yourself
       Now you know what could have been

They are not in love
Her sea green gazes
Are not filled with
Love or compassion
They are filled by
Dissatisfaction and
Distaste at what she
Has allowed herself
To settle for and with

They are not in love
His watery blue glances
Are not filled with
Love or compassion
They are filled by
Desperation and
The admiration of a
Mere man child
Unaware of what he has

They are not in love
My darkened ocean stares
They are filled by
Love and compassion
They are filled by
Utter devotion and
Sheer romanticized love
I could give her and it'd
Be worth so much more than his.

They are not in love
The media’s pale gray glares
Are not filled with
Love and compassion
They are filled with
Greed and rejection
Of what is not fitting
In the perfectly styled
Heterosexual world

They are not in love
I would like to proclaim
With hell to the media
And his watery blue glances
I could fill her with
Far more love and compassion
Than he or the media
Ever cared to give to her

I immerse a lilting fingertip into the
Milky icing of
My birthday cake
Intending to celebrate
Another year of life

But I am not struck by the
Pride of aging but instead by the
Shame of a compulsion
The flame on the candles brings

And licking the icing off my skin
I replace the icing with
The searing heat of
The candle stick

Wincing not only at the feel
Of my skin charring in the heat
But also at the sick
Guilty pleasure
I receive from the action

This isn’t what
Age
Is supposed to bring

Pride
At watching my maturity change
Pleasure
At new, refreshing experiences
Love
Of the expanding number of memories I held
That is what I thought
Age would bring


But no
Instead it carries with it
Shame
At the growing cravings for pain
Guilt
For the hidden experiences in darkness
Hate
For the inability to stop the thirst

Dipping your fingertip through the
Milky cream of cake icing
And dabbing it on a lover’s nose?

No
It is more along the lines of

Dipping your fingertip through the
Searing flame of the cake’s candles
And dabbing ointment on the shameful burns

You gain as many friends as your age represents
But these friends are
Shame
Embarrassment
Neglect
And every other negative thing
You never thought age would bring

You sit drinking your cheap liquor,
and flat soda.
You wax your philosophical views
to anyone who listens.
"The problem," You say,
"is that no one cares."
Your slurring thoughts are truly
a voice of a generation.

all these are cliches
like
should've,
could've,
would've,
might
have beens,
would rathers...


can't you just say 'regrets'?


because everything you chose to happen
happened for a reason
and the reason
was you chose it
and it was indeed a stupid
choice


and you'll never admit it was


because you'll never learn from
your mistakes
you'll just repeat them
until they become right


because everything changes,
everything bends,
except for you,

except for me,
who'll forever melt in your
alibis

believe me I don't care
but if I do
I just do because
I want to know
how miserable you've been
since I left
and since you
let me leave

believe me I don't care
but if I do
I just do because
I want to know
how things work out between
You and
Your life
when I'm not around

I think things got better...
but I could be wrong
because if
I am right
it's gonna **** me


believe me I don't care
but If I do
I just do because
it's better than
smoking a pack
a day

my eyes
hurt
either way

Time moves to fast,

takes our love,
to the end.
Can I not cherish the time.

Time has always been,
my cruel little gem.

It does not teach of love,
but of cuss and hate.

Can I not cherish the moments,
that are oh so sweet,

on the skin of my lips.
And the curve of my hips.
That sing and dance.

A song so sweet,
The story of time,
that nips at my feet.

Laying in bed
Trying to read
Thinking of you

Thoughts fill my head
You're all I need
I'm thinking of you

All the things left unsaid
Never thought anything could impede
I still think of you

Looking too far ahead
I continue to bleed
I'm thinking of you

I was misled
Left here bloodied
Thinking of you

Emotions dead
Heart emptied
Thoughts remain

I stood there
In the dim lights of our den

A place once cherished
But now otherwise ignored

It had become his
Hiding place

His refuge for
When he wouldn’t speak

At those times
Like right now

I would stand there
Behind him

Delicately trailing random patterns
On his sweat-soaked tee’s back

He used to dress nicely
Plaid polos and such

But ever since she passed
He was rather shoddy in his appearance; sloppy

I could feel his body
Rise and fall

Each breath shorter and less healthy
Than the last

But I said nothing
Simply humming softly

Finally he lifted his head
His pale, pallid skull

Topped with slightly thinned
Reddish hair

It’d been so thick before
Before she passed

He turned slowly
To face me

His face was a sickly purple so unlike the warm peach
It’d been when she was alive

His lips were pale and chapped
Unlike their previous full pink

And they were shuddering violently
As he tried to speak

After another moment of silence
Eventually he did

If you’d just been
Quiet

He whispered
In a harsh, raspy voice

His now yellowed teeth that he once prided in deeply
Gleamed in the den’s faded light

If you had just
Kept your **** mouth shut

He elaborated
In a sour undertone

I felt my stomach sickening itself
But refused to show reaction to his words

If you had just been able to silence yourself for a ****** minute
She would not have died

I knew it was true
And so I did not try to stop him as he stood

He was gone within hours
To accompany her

To abandon me
The idiot that could not keep quiet

Thus now I am what you might call a
Mute

For silence is a friend
That never betrays

I do my
Best thinking
When I am cold
And I do not mean cold
Such as
Mild shivers and
Light body quakes
I mean
**** straight
Runny nose
Over the top
Wooly sweaters
And hot chocolate
To soothe
My frozen bones


I suppose the
Intensity
The feel of my
Frigid skeleton
Pressed against my
Clammy Skin
Wakes me up


So I sit there
****
(Because God knows those sweaters were hideous…)
With a glass
Of frosted judgement
And ponder over thoughts
That were previously resolved
Only to reconsider


Why in God’s name
Did I say that to her?
Do his stares really mean
What they imply?
Did I leave the stove on?
Till my mind
Liquefies
To mere mush
And the chills
Overtake my curiosity
Are replaced by
A mug of hot beverage
Of my usual lukewarm distaste