There is more than one way to skin a cat
And there is more than one way to break a heart
I'm surprised you don't know this by now
You don't always have to rip it into shreds
With your bare hands tensed in rage
Intentionally destroying the pulsating thing you hold
You do not always have to spill it's blood
Watching the thick red liquid congeal on the floor
You need not always fill it with shame
Ridiculing it's nature, the way it beats, it's purpose
Until it's too small to believe in itself
All you need is to be loved by that heart
And every time you walk away it will follow
Pieces of it sewn into your jacket pocket
Or dangling proudly around your neck
And when you leave that jacket in a haunted house
With a haunted soul that robbed you of safety
I will not get that piece of me back
When the bright and beating pendent resting on your clavicle
Is torn off and lost in someone's couch cushions
The same place you lost your dignity and self worth
I will not get that piece of me back
My heart is sewn onto yours like a patchwork quilt
And whenever your heart breaks, mine does too
Wherever your blood is spilt, my heart is stained red too
There is more than one way to skin a cat
And there is more than one way to break a heart.

And you felt every moment of it. He arrived like the night, creeping up to you slowly, to take you into his arms, to embrace you, to tell you it's going to be calm and to tell you it's time to sleep. He shadowed over your figure in bed, he whispered in your ear, his breath like the night breeze touching your hair, his fingers like the moonlight lighting up your ****** features.

But you forgot some things about the night too. How his eyes darkened, how the night was supposed to make you feel scared and alone. How you felt him stand up from the bed, how he slipped right out of your hold, how you suddenly felt the lonely chill like it gets much colder as dawn draws nearer.

And the moment you opened your eyes to the light, you watched him go. He left like night, but your day wasn't bright. You squinted through the sunlight, to see him slowly fade away. It felt like you were on the poles of the earth, waiting for the moon to come around again, getting sick of the sun. It felt all so wrong, to be soaked in the sun but to feel the cold biting at your skin.

The night was all just a dream; the day is nothing but a reality. And to wake up to the exact second where the borderline of the night and day or dream and reality fades, this is how he left you.

I missed him not in raindrops,
But in roaring tidal waves.
We were wild.

I missed him not in breezes,
But in dizzy hurricanes.
We were crazy.

I missed him not in a bouquet,
But in a maze of flower gardens.
We were lost.

I missed him not in a cloud,
But in the heavens above.
We were ethereal.

I missed him not in a rain puddle,
But in the lakes and seas.
We were deep.

I missed him not in the new world,
But in historical lands.
And up to this day, it's still the same,
We are classic.

Is it the way her hair flows as we kiss in the winds of autumn, or the way we touch by a lake of moonlight?
Whatever it is, I’ve been caught like I was falling, and I was indeed.
I felt she was special, felt she was an inspiration to me more than just physically, more than just emotionally.
She was an extension of my spirit and a personal angel. She was a piece of me that fit the place of the one missing…
But now my puzzle is no longer complete. Now my soul feels funny, so funny that I can’t identify the buzz that is apparent.
Was it the fact that I knew it would happen or the fact that I hoped it wouldn’t that makes me feel this way?
Do I feel comical or pain? Hurt or hilarity? I’m stuck somewhere I’ve never been, walking the wild woods with warmth slowly seeping out of my fingertips and collecting into the darkness as my body grows colder.
But I am a factory of warmth.
This is why I feel this way. Not broken, but still rebuilding. Not hurt, but still heeling. I am confusion’s worst nightmare, but constant lover.
I am a rock in the middle of the pond that breaks the constant flow of the water around me.
But I am the sole rock to do it the way I do, and so regardless of how the water breaks, I still feel empty in such a large pond.
I am the embodiment of dangerously delicious curiosity and tantalizing intrigue. I challenge the forbidden and go against the normality simply for the hell of it.
But I’m still just a kid. And like any other
I still need love

where you have gone and where
the moon is
looking out my window
out at dark
confused of how the day's
sun is gone
diffused in worry and purplish
shadows of
the trees waving
goodbye

she responds in words as well
not in any beat but of the heart's,
she knows he can feel her,
no matter how far apart
she hears his voice in the sun
she feels his fingers in the sea
he's closing in on her
it's his, she longs to be