I miss my friends
So ******* much
That I feel sick

When will we fix ourselves
Patch our rips together with craft beers and pink wines

Tell me it's not too late

It seems like girls are always either
On their toes
Or on their knees
Bedside tables
Ready to monthly bleed
And to forget their counterparts
Swings and all other ugly things
Like their need for rings
Or whatever boys think we crave
Cause men with beards are here to save
Us from ourselves
And our woodland self destruction
A head put under construction
Wicker breaks beneath them
Paint chips
Cracked hips
Blue lips

It seems as though
Girls are always found
On their toes
Or on their knees

Something old:
Our talks around tables, hidden behind paper bags
Laughter and the lack of lacking it
Something new:
This strange place, lacking every particle of us
The cold campus covered in facts
A realization that poetry is just a constant occurrence of hand references
Something borrowed:
The way you pronounce my name, just slightly off
I've been introducing myself that way lately
Something blue:**
My suffocating hands
And crippled heart

Maybe the night is blue
Because there is a layer of skin
Covering the honest red sky
And we all ask why

Why do we see veins as
Camera shy and blue
In my finger pointing over cheap wine
At you

And why is everything we do
So complicated and blue
When there should be red between our words
The only upside is the sound of morning birds

Blue is the color of suffocation
And that is how you live your life
No bright paints in your closet
But a muted blue and a broken promise

You will. You? Will. You? Will.

I would have
But you turned me blue
And finally, though dead on the floor
I am bleeding red blood
No blue for me anymore

It's late
And I know you're not awake
But there's something you should know
We shouldn't have been left alone
Just when I started to call you home
And I understand
That you've taken back your hand
I taste blood under trees
And think of the trash can keys

Remember that night that you and me listened to a song about rivers and roads
Over and over
On our way home
We couldn't get over
The sounds of their voices
And we didn't want to leave each other, if only for the night

That was two years ago
And now drives home hold tears and headstones

I lived a life through your pockets
Where you kept your other secrets
And crippling fear of loud voices in quiet classrooms

I was simply a secret
Someone to think of in passing, never to truly know
I hung on to every word you ever whispered to me

I think coffee smells like cigarettes
And I think cigarettes smell like far-off summers

I never told a soul about the rosary playing in your mother's car (until now)
You kissed me on the night when I said "you outstep them all"

But now everyone knows too much
And I'm all out of blood to bleed
My heart is throbbing out of tune
Aching in extraordinary anger