I love you.
I love you now
forever from now
but weak little words
scribbled anywhere aren't very strong as they are
but weak little words
forever from now
I love you now
I love you.

i never loved you
but you can't hide from the fact
that you believed me

So today I heard your name
and I hold my brain to blame
as it repeats and cheats on the sweet agreement we had
that there would be no more sad
no more bad and only happy and
none of you or your repeated name
none of you or your cheating game.

Oh brain, you ****,
you hurt when you spurt these words
we promised not to say or that name
you swore you'd stay away from.
That name that haunts me still but
will not be rid of; so sit up, listen up,
brain, I will not tell you again:
Just keep out of my head,
I've had enough of this monster beneath my bed.
Just keep out of my heart,
jolting me up at night like the electric jump-start-
Jump-started
by that name, the very same that I'd once gladly take but now I hate,
as hate is all that is left in the hole dug out of doubt in your name
and in who you were, as were is not who you are now,
but what you are now is somehow
who you always were: a liar.
And finally I see this and I finally don't miss
You.

And that's what makes hearing your name a poison
that seeps deep into my chest that I'm bent on dragging on
that I lean on, that will just never be gone
because now it fits amidst these lies.
And I hold my brain to blame
because my heart has given in,
because my heart can't be lived in the same after the way your name left it.
Just a dull ache sits but it fits more than you ever did.
But I'm training this brain not to recognize that horrid name and then it will be the same
as before you ever came,
but

Today I heard your name
and I guess I hold only myself to blame.

Beneath the couch today I found one of your toenails.
It reminded me of the way your toes once scratched against mine
and I was disgusted because I thought those things resembled
rotten carrots mixed with the stuff I've seen come out of my cat.
It reminded me of the way your hand once brushed mine
and I looked down to see those meaty sausage fingers
carrying on in their meaty sausage way
by spreading grease and filth and must and finger dirt
all over my nice white sleeve.
And then it reminded me of the way I couldn't stand your yellowed teeth
because I knew you didn't like coffee and
that your only excuse was not brushing.
So I looked deeply into that aged toenail found
beneath my couch and amongst some dust
beneath my couch where you sat that once
and I thought this toenail was a portrait of you,
hidden below my couch like the Mona Lisa's missing eyebrows.

But I left that toenail beneath my couch where it fell
the night you took your socks off to show me your tattoo,
the night you kissed me with no socks on,
the night I tasted rebellion in a sockless kiss with yellowed teeth
and sausage fingers in my hair.
Because I stuffed that kiss beneath the couch too
and let it break apart from my foot-life like a carrot toenail.
But that toenail leads me to think that your sausage hands were pretty soft;
that you probably would have liked coffee if you knew I drank it
and then that you were always a working man;
those fingers were proof of a hard day's labour.
So the night you took your socks off for me, could be tonight again
and I'd have the guilty happiness in your sweaty palms I missed before,
then I'd be perfectly okay when pieces of you shed onto my carpet.
But I don't regret the toenail beneath the couch
because at least it's there.

"I will feed my lights to the sea"
Said the girl to the plant.

"But I'll miss your skin when you leave"
The plant cried in protest.

"Oh, but I can not love you,  for you are green"
Her whispers hurdled against his stem.

"I would grow a heart and lungs by the Sun's beams,
If it only meant you,
Between my leaves."



She stepped to the sea, "You're too brittle!"
The plant grew after her. "You're too beautiful!"

The seaweed slapped at her toes,
The starfish lapped at her ankles.

"By any other name, you're just a rose."
"Forget the blue world; come to the green, my sweet!"
Her neck twisted skyward, and she froze.



The Sun bent down and kissed her on the face.
"Do not leave your light to the sea," His bright face rang in melancholy.
"He's but a star, to me you are the Sun!" The plant sang in jealousy.

But as the heat beat down and the vines dug into her skin,
She refused.



And so, with the slip and slap of waves her jewels glittered into the sea,

The tears of a single plant too weak to fight the current
And the light of a star too dim to outshine the light.

And so, there with the slip and slap of waves, her jewels were finally free.