and i keep licking my lips
and biting my tongue,
hoping i can remove your
taste that you left behind
and replace it with
bitterness and cheap whiskey.

i think i miss you on
saturday nights the most,
because that's when the realization
really kicks in, the realization
that i love you more than myself
and anything beautiful in
this ****** up world,
when you're the only star
worth dying for.

midnight skies in your eyes.

but how
can i crave your
touch when
i've never
felt it?

you are a poem that breathes,
and i can't stop writing it.

you make me
wanna smoke
cheap cigarettes
and **** myself.

you'll be my last breath,
the only reason for my death.