While I may still live in the night
The stars have finally come out
And I do not long for day
I am a child of the sleeping sun
But the difference is
I have learned not to trip
In the darkness

the stars in your eyes shine brighter than the comets falling from your open wrists

Houses sitting condemned, taking up the view
while the old guys sit sipping forties in forty degree
temperatures facing the wall so the wind doesn't burn
their faces too much in what could be called a modest December.

They turn their back to the guy hiding bags of rock
in his lips to avoid detection from the cameras posted
on both street corners. This place is set to a constant sneaking
violin pluck. We are all capers in a burgle commune.

I hung up a tarp today so the stray cats can hide from the wind.
In one stanza, January has set in and it is bitter to the bone.
We summoned the name of old man winter from repetition and
no one man may hold that burden. The ***** only warms their blood.

I was covered in gasoline
And with the ghost of a smirk playing on on your lips,
You dropped a lit match and set me aflame.

Thick black smoke swallowed me whole
And I felt your fingers dancing across my skin,
searing a path across my body.
I can't see the difference between pain and ecstasy,
(maybe there isn't one at all)
But I can't think of a more violent ecstasy
Or a more pleasurable pain than you--
the beginning to my end.

All that's left to you now is cinder, ash,
And a whispered "I think I love you..."

And yet his eyes are a certain shade of dreaming.

pacify my mouth with a white-knuckled fist
and kiss my scars with a tongue void of emotion
squeeze my knees together with hands too bruised to hold
with my shaking fingers
will the knots around my neck
  squeeze me like you do
    and leave bruises like you do
the ends of your hairs tickle me
along the sides of my neck
and tell me to scream
tell me to scream
scream when you leave me alone after dark
scream when the burn of alcohol no longer stings my lips
scream when the bags under your eyes turn into luggage
    stationed next to the front door
your hands around my neck tightens like the knots never could
and the luggage looks like heaven
and somehow i find myself in the inside of your suitcase