Please don’t turn out the lights.
You murdered sleep,
taking only what you needed,
leaving me alone to try to dream,
but being the farthest from succeeding.
Left with terrors plaguing unfulfilling rest,
paralysis clawing at my heart,
suffocating,
while resting on my chest.
Lungs fill with water,
while I drown in imagination,
gasping, barely breathing.
“You can come lay with me,
or just roll over and die.”
He ***** at my gasping lips,
my last breath.
Awaken,
only by my piercing scream,
in a cold puddle, sweating.
You took what you wanted.
You murdered sleep.

He stalks rabbits, mice, and birds,
obient to instinct,
often dragging the carcasses home;
a remarkable piece of shallowness.
Who knows what he thinks?
It caught my eye,
noticing everything, yet remembering nothing.
Our eyes locked while something tossed away the key.
The world dismantled and tumbled into that black hole,
of eyes.
The look,
as if two lovers, no,
deadly enemies, met unexpectedly.
It emptied our lungs.
I don’t remember what shattered the enchantment.

I wonder if I was the last girl to kiss you?
You tasted of that twinge of sadness you have after last call when you know you’re only prolonging the inevitable of stumbling home alone.
It was rainy and humid.
The last remnants of the summer radiated out of the cracks in the sidewalks.
We were hazy, drunk off of conversations and monkeys, sitting on my bedroom floor, smoking cigarettes, singing along to Blink on vinyl.
I just had to show you it sounded much better and give you a slight glimpse into my head.
‘I’m Lost  Without You’
Warped.
Broken.
Useless.
Unsalvageable.
Dead.
There was no need for leaving so abruptly. I was hoping that you might be around for more then just a minute.
Turns out you were wrong though.
You broke more hearts than guitar strings. You’ll become hazy, and I’ll just stay crazy.