The stars who carry an old man's face
in their bones stop to take a rest on
an uneventful day, laying down their burdens
for just long enough to make it count.

His nose is the first to go, cracking
decisively down the middle like a
half-moon breaking at the seams
of a teenager's whispered prayers.

Next are his eyebrows, splitting
at the roots into a forest which calls
like the girls at a high school football game,
just waiting for him to call back.

Then come his cheekbones, splintering
in one shuddering gasp like the mothers
who have borne a child and still aren't prepared
for the day he has to leave home.

His lips are the next to go, crumbling
into a dust that will never speak again,
like the girl he should have told to stay,
but who walked away before he could.

He breaks in the silence
while the stars still have their backs turned,
ignorning the stories that escape, shimmering,
into the cosmos from whence they came.

hey

it seems that im back here again at the place we used to call ours
i still call it ours because no one really comes up here and i know this because i go up here everyday after school
i know it's been months but i still love the view just as much. it's peaceful u here and it's getting cold but dont worry, i carry my jacket around like you always used to remind me to- i miss you
there's a lighter in my hand, it looks like the one from the day at the convenience store where you first talked to me-the black one with scribbles all over it-, remember? (do you even remember me?)
don't worry i stopped smoking a month ago- you've been telling me to quit ever since- so no, i didnt go up here to smoke
i guess i just like watching the flame flicker on and off; sometimes i burn things- dont worry it's harmless,i swear, though it does hold a certain sort of power, you know? once you light something up, it just sits there and detoriates then it's gone

it ***** how my mind's still stuck on you as if you never left, the memories are kept kindled
i keep looking back at our pictures, i still believe they can lead me to a trainstation or a bus stop for a detour back to everything
i dont know why i cant seem to stop- my friends think im over it
the thing is i tried getting over it but not really, just a halfway attempt
i met a guy twice, thrice and they'd last until i wanted them to (but i dont- time passes by fast and they start to irritate me sooner than later)
this makes me a sadist but i cant help it, the pain's deadly and i still relinquish on it
maybe it's my fuel, it keeps me alive

i gotta say you're really good at your thing- with the hiding and all- it's what made me look in to you the first place, your persistency and consistency (or i thought you were)- ignorning and disappearing
ive tried looking for you, keep hoping that i'd bump on you in the halls but i never really see you and you never come back up here-if you did, id know
i cant say that i 'loved' or 'love' you because i still dont believe in that fickle thing-infatuated, maybe
all i know is that i got attached and im left to suffer with this downfall. i knew it would end sooner or later, i knew you'd leave but i didnt expect you to be the one to go. tis is the only part of the story uncalled for-the begrudging plot twist

i should regret our paths diverging but i dont feel hatred towards you. im stuck living in the past, chasing ghosts of you and me, even now i still think it was worth it, ironic right?
maybe meaning's found in the fleeting
i no longer depend on cigarrettes but i still keep lighters in my pocket, with a flick i watch the flame because it reminds me of our times- it's so very much like the memories that cease to die; i cease to forget you
maybe in some way it can make up for a love lost
the fire reminds me to sta alive like how you used to- you were my fire

i guess i cant take you off my mind because you gave me something ive been deprived of-hope-when you held my hand in the alley, the warmth of your palm made me hope and only now do i realize that hope is a treacherous thing
now the night has reached its peak and i have to go, mom's going to be worried
i'd come back here tomorrow, i know you're not coming back at all
but i hold on,
to my lighters,
i hold on to hope

just in case

I’m exhausted and I feel like ignorning all my teachers to read some poetry and write endless peoms.
Id also enjoy the company of a loving female.

King gentle love would do my aching body and mind some good.
The type of love that leaves their boyfriends extremely jealous and wanting to come up to me (but I’ll explain to them that their girl is a perfect woman and that I did them a favor because they wouldn’t have had stayed faithful to them anyways)

The smell of her sweet perfume
And the touch of her soft gentle skin

While she lays with me while she listens to me ramble about whatever decides to craw into my mind, wether she cares or not.

It wouldn’t even have had been bothered with the half wood and minor headache she’d give me after she left.