in the woods
my breath glows in the dark
like writing his name
with a sparkler
the start is ceased
before the end is created
and this sigh is long
funny thing, breathing is
how i only remember i'm doing it
when it starts to hurt
or when his kiss haults it
from happening
or when it's so cold and black
and lonely and lost
and i can't miss it
kind of feels a lot
like loving
some here-and-gone and
shaky proof of life
a little puff
in the woods
i watch the warmth of me
drift and dissipate
into onyx air
and skeleton trees
and shy stars
and i don't want to breathe
deeper than i love
so, as my heart bleeds
and weeps with my lungs
and my feet
pat roots and moss
i leave these woods
i run to him

those eyes have always been the only
map
through the minefield of your
mind
the rush, the feathered touch of
another brush with
"run for your life!"

(i shouldn't be so
surprised)

fame won't follow art
they said
yet
by coloring beyond lines
he drew attention

stolen
mona
least
i
can
be
the
angel
in
the
marble
you
can't
set
­free

flat on my back on
the asphalt
like that fox a mile ago
cigar smoke and cold gusts
i watch the moon rust
and flick stars until they
dive like
paper airplanes
and see why
tis the milky way
midnight skies are white
when city lights
hush

pebbles get stuck to my cheek
the asphalt rumbles
i try to hear
earth's heartbeat
i'll die pretending
that it's yours

she's a siren
in a wasteland
a tantalizing ebon-eyed angel
gloved in lacy little bralettes
cloaked by burnt hair
she lures, lulls
lashes curled
fingertips cold
while the world shifts and spins
she stays, a gravestone
her shape, the muse of every rave
from shakespeare to sheeran
skin, a minefield of goosebumps
freckles
and velvet
and that cookie cutter heart
inked into her collarbone
(i knew her before that, once)

before the toothpick cross
on her viola-neck-of-a wrist, too
plus the piercing in her naval
before those crystal charms that just dangle there
the ones her exes line up
to drop off
each april
before they slip into her bedroom
slide into those cheetah-print sheets
same ones they wove their
seeds and sweat and sins into
a handful of ages ago

amidst the haze that haunts those troops
i witness lust
a black hole masked by magnets
stained with cream-ridden coffee
reeking of mary jane and cake batter chapstick
(i gave her lip-balm for her birthday, once)

evermore and nonetheless,
armies drown themselves in
airport perfume
lilac bottles she trades her tickets for
because free spirits can't afford to both
stay in
and smell like
paris
thus, she stalls
until she passes as graceful
but zeus knows she can't settle
only lounge on her six-foot teddy bear
another birthday gift, another admirer
who isn't a secret as much as forgotten
(i almost forgot her, once)

i witness
the men on the moon march through
that war on mars, then straight into
a venus fly trap
goodhearted guys, who
could feed her the nile
from a golden spoon, who
would lasso stars and conquer nations
at her whim
become tumbleweeds
by the dozens, who
have offered that girl everything
begged her for the pleasure of ensuring
she never wants for a ****** thing
but what's it worth when all she wants is nothing?
(i kept my distance from the infection, once)

she's the one
who left her virtue in the circus
her victims in love
her past, inside plexiglass mirrors
her mother intoxicated
her father in the ground
her car crashed into a tree
but she's not complaining
she's just calling life as it happens
to waste her

(i kissed her, twice)