My Love for you is strong
My Love for you is wrong

Nights without you are so lonely
You make me feel so homely

My life is not worth living
When your love for me stops giving

Your touch so pure
It makes my sadness cure

My Love for you is true
And I will always love you

his grip on my thighs become the reason
i lie about the boys of summertime
and their sweaty hands that trail my tan spine
which turn into sharp knives come wintertime
as snowflakes fall to the hardened ground
i remember my body against yours
and the burning embers of our red love
in fall it dims and dims and dims more
until its black against the white ground
black like the nights we snuck out our homes
and found each other with the white of flashlights
the sun rises before we're ready
winter comes before we're ready
our burning fire turns to cold cold ash

I want to softly whisper
incomplete poems
on your collar bones
that don't rhyme with anything
but your heavy breathing.

I want to bury my face
in the curves of your neck
because you smell like the winter clouds
and I've been gazing at the sky
since you left.

"at that point, i don't really know what i felt. it was not invisibility nor visibility. i felt like i was floating in the unnoticeable, kind of there, kind of not there fog. Fog is clouds that were supposed to be up high and exalted, but somehow they are brought down. Fog is unreasonable, with no practicality and almost good for nothing. i guess that's what i was too."
-(midnight narrations in October)

Hot and cold
Fire and ice
Heaven and hell
Self-destruction and happiness
Totally conflicted
Between life and death

when i was 13,
"if your friends jumped
off a cliff would you?"
was an effortless,
"no"
because when i was 13
the cliff was a tall,
intimidating
piece of land
with a neon sign that said
"impending doom"
lit up at the edge,
but now im 20
and the cliff
comes in glass bottles
and the cliff
comes in thick syringes
and the cliff
is drawn beneath
my skin
in india ink
and down below it,
i can see my home town
and i can hear the patient voices
of the kids i grew up with
that never got out,
shakily shouting
"come down here;
it's easier at the bottom"
and if im being honest
im stumbling toward it
with an alarming
lack of fear

the silence that followed
after we kissed
was just as loud
as the beating in my chest;
i didnt know
a heart could beat this loud