i will go softly into the new year
hiding from the night before the clock strikes twelve
i will be asleep
buried six feet in my bed
a silent suffocation
a quiet crime
i wish i could gather some bravery
watch the time tick tick twelve and feel something close to fireworks settle in my stomach
but i know
that the stones that live between my ribs will pull my body down
and my blankets will pile like dirt
and my pillows will hold my breath in place
and i will go softly
i will go without a fight
there is so much weight that resides in my chest
and it whispers to me
that in this new year
perhaps it is better to be a ghost

be aggressive with your love babe
i need you to demand
be harsh with your affection
it's the only way i'll understand

tiny cracks in the pavement
what flowers will bloom today?
wilted and glorious and good
i walk on them with purpose
flowers are not meant for the street
they are for flickering candles
and whispering fields
and all the other things
i know nothing about

the others weep
at a ****** of daisies
but i will not

they are nothing to me

i have always struggled with physical touch

perhaps its because
i received too much
all at once
and never quite understood
what i was being given

perhaps its a million other reasons
but it is too difficult
to understand the past
so for now I'm stuck with
my present longing
for some kind of touch
that doesn't make my skin crawl

the birds stopped singing some time ago and
i can't remember when they stopped but
that seems to be the pattern these
days and there's a candle lit that's
sitting precariously on the
corner of my bed and
somewhere in my
mind i hope that
something will
catch on fire
and this
**** hole
will
burn

d
o
w
n

the warmth of the sun
butter in my eyes
a shuddered relief
with everyone of your sighs

the passion of the sun
flames that swallow
burn me from the inside
and leave me hollow