he smiles like he has a secret tucked into the corner of his lips. "something to chew on when dinner isn't enough," he said.
but it's never enough, and she reminds him of that.

she pulls out a cigarette, slender as the fingers she grips it with. "the smoke in my lungs make me less empty," she said.
but she's always empty, and he reminds her of that.

and now they sit together in silence, pulling feathers from pillows and strings from seams. he says, "take your coat off and stay a while."
but neither wants to stay, and they both understand that.

"i'm sorry," she whispers, and lights another cigarette.
"it's okay," he returns with a smile.

everything was so soft. everything was so calm.
well, except our hearts. they were racing.
and it was awkward, but it was sweet. i spent my time biting my lip so i wouldn't touch them against yours. you spent your time taking pictures, to keep your fingers busy. on the camera, off my hair. and it brought us to our knees, almost. the weight of everything.
why me? of all people, why give me her present? i asked but never got an answer. but it sat by my bedside every night.
we were desperate lovers, desperate for change. desperate for some resemblances of the past, but rewritten.
older, even. more mature.
and well, the heat of the summer lit that flame in our hearts, and the rest of us. and you may have steered that ship, but my hands were on the wheel.
but eventually my hands gripped razors instead of bedsheets. and your kisses weren't sweet anymore. instead of burying your hands in my hair, they were buried in yours - in grief. we both broke, from the weight of the world. i told you we'd never be Atlas and you begged to try anyway.
why, though? you knew i was broken, you knew you were too. with cracks in the cornerstone, why did you keep building?
you sent that canary into a coal mine and you cried when it was dead.
just bury it. you always were so good at keeping a straight face; it won your poker game every time.
just smoke another one, you know you'd want to. why didn't you?
i don't understand why you were so broken. let alone why i was.
and when i asked, you could only say,
"it just all ended so...
abruptly."

it's funny -
every time we take a second to breathe,
we notice how different things are.
from before him.
to him.
to me.
to losing me.
to gaining me,
for me to leave again.
and somehow,
managing to slip through the cracks
into you and me.
to slip into a stride that has,
for some unknown, ******* reason
has always felt right.
****** knee, ****** hip,
we always manage to have that stride.
parallel,
oh god but so perpendicular.
and when you're quiet, i speak
and sometimes the other way around.
we've lost touch with those pathetic,
dramatic grasps of air and
breath and love and it's such
a relief, to be where we are.
to be given what we fought so hard for.
oh but isn't it funny,
how now that you have what you
said you begged for,
how you've lost so much.
lost a place and a sense of worth
and maybe confidence that
never really was there in the first place.
but you have me.
i warned you i was venom and
****** and poison -
and at times you may be content
believing that those are
inflated metaphors to coax my ego.
but my words are sharp, too sharp,
sharper than most knives because,
well - you love me.
and when words are cheap,
i make them worth their
weight in gold.
and you,
you're soft and malleable.
and god do i tear that apart sometimes.
but remember something -
when we were children, we had
silly putty that we loved,
but loved to destroy.
but the greatest part is
how it always came back together in the end,
with your fingerprints and dirt and
dust of the memories of that day
imprinted in it.
maybe it isn't pleasant and
i apologize for taking pleasure in that,
but i love you in my own way.
take a few steps back -
like i love to do when i ramble.
and remember i said
you're soft and malleable.
and please don't ever change -
because do you know
what else is soft?
malleable?
gold.
you're golden, baby.
and don't ever lose that shine.
i have loved you,
i love you,
i always will love you.
scars and mistakes and
addictions and tears.
laughter and sweets and
music and friends.
i love you.
don't ever forget it.
you're the golden girl.

she smiled,
a secret tucked into her right dimple.
her vision glaringly white once again.
oh she won't tell.
not this time.
blacking out,
and the sweat,
and that sheer adrenaline,
gave her something to live for.
gave her something to feel alive.
enough to feel sick,
but god did sick feel good.
and when everyone
is crying no,
she knows she wants
to say yes.
because rebellion and
anarchy really sets
a fire in her veins.

she doesn't like to sleep anymore.
she'd rather stay up and make wishes
on the scars that she counts
than slip under a sheet.
it's something about vulnerability.
something about letting go.
if she can just keep her eyes pried
for one more second, minute, hour,
she can control it.
how long she sleeps and if she'll
dream [of him] again.
and maybe later,
once she's all alone,
she can sleep through meals
and start to hate the spots
he loved to hold
a little less.
anything, just to
hate him a little less.
she spends every spare second
checking her phone,
hoping to see if he's responded.
hours later.
still checking, and still hoping
for no real reason at all.
"is it possible,"
she asked herself,
"to hate someone and still
hang on every word?"
but maybe she wants to hang on
every word, hang on everything
he meant.
because letting it go was harder
than holding onto it.
staying awake was harder than
just shutting her eyes long
enough to let him go.
so she wastes her time counting
stars and counting scars,
until she can breathe again.

Continuation without meaning, meaning
Lacking merit, chains whose warders have
Long since deserted
Fallen prey to common gestures

There is no editorial for these thoughts
Of sound mind and sight body we
Press on

Some say it is the chlorophyll that keeps leaves
Green
I know it to be hope
I know, should hope grow tires and fail
To recognize her surroundings, leaves
Will drain to brown with
Worry

I challenge you, try to understand
Walk in the depressions left by the others
Feel their breath fueling your thoughts but
Keep them your own, always and
Forever your own, even as
Forever deflates and sags inward, a
Shadow of its former self

Reason, everything's about reason but to what
Ends, for what purpose and why?
A reason
Will not bring people together
A reason
Cannot solve a problem
A reason, a stupid ******* reason
Can't do much of anything at all

What is it for? What
Do we seek to justify somehow with this
Talk of talking we need
Three-dimensional speaking we need
Spheres of understanding not this
Circle we ride in silence without so much as a
Remark about the unchanging landscape

Fallacies will be present in all walks of life, hell
In every stone witnessed in all walks of life,
Hell,
Everywhere
And to dwell on them is to play the fool to
Succumb to defeat to rise above all we
Know and realize there is nothing else but
Cascading color waterfalls and this nub of
a pencil

Nothing crucial, no time for time when
It all is so vibrant, yet reflections adore
Our world because we invite them even
As we recognize the harm done, still welcome
Views built on the backs of the long dead and

Idealistic initial impressions of a
Flower before the wind steals it from the
Tangles of your hair and gifts pedals to
The breeze

About it, you made the right choice it
All worked out in the end there were
Parades and balloons and you earned a
Trophy
Earned, not received

And they never pop, never dull
Limp with fractured wrists and arms and
Popcorn full to the threatening point of
Bursting, but they hold on for you

Watch your eyes *****, spewing dark sky
Studded with stars in the hopes of
Outshining all our halogen
Smiles

I want to see you
Every moment of every day
Never grow tired
And never grow old