the worst feeling is the one when writing is the only release you've got but you've got writers block and you can't conjure the words that explain the emptiness behind your thoughts
the word indescribable cancels itself out and you're left wondering if writing on cave walls sharpens or disintegrates the rock.
I wish I could find the words to tell you that I can't sleep at night, not even under your sheets and Christmas lights, and I'm not sure why. I wish I could find the words to tell you that I never have energy or motivation or an appetite.
I wish I could find the words to tell you that I miss your passion and affection and the inspiration you used to spark inside of me. And even more so the words to tell you that I think you misplaced those things, like your wallet and dollar bills and lighters.
I'm searching under couch cushions for cheek kisses and creative lyrics about the sparks I lit inside of you.
Maybe you didn't lose them though. Maybe I lost the fire.
Maybe I'm the small fireworks at ten pm and you're midnight on New Years Eve.
Maybe you need a bigger flame.
I want you to have that.
I want to be that, but the only words I can think of to tell you are that I've found damp coals in my soul and I don't know how to replace them with new ones.
I wish I had words.
These words are hollow.
Which makes sense because that's all I've felt lately.
I hope you continue to love me when I'm nothing but hollow eyes and dark circles and collar bones.
I hope I can continue to love you in the right way with this skeleton but I feel weaker knees failing me already.
Show me how to float like you do.
Show me how to fly and light on fire.
Let me be midnight with you.
I need to be midnight or I won't make it until then.

That last sentence has so much meaning behind it and I wish I could find the words to explain the symbolism or intensity of it.
I wish I could find words so I could stop with the repetition but I'm just repeating myself.

love

is a disease that continues to

be passed around and around

& leaves behind a long trail

of broken hearts,

the death of young souls,

& the smell of a

sickening sadness.

You put a stopper in my heart
The love flows over
Nowhere for it to go
Leaks out when I'm sober

I watched a monkey who seemed out of control
He appeared to be sliding fast down his pole
It was a major slip
Having lost his grip
and fell embarrassingly into a large hole.

being in love

and not loved back

is like lying on grass

and feeling needles

you are a bonfire
a haunting flame
licking your own wounds
burning yourself out

you are a paradox
tough as nails
but
weaker than words

you tell yourself
its okay
to barricade your diaphragm
like your ribs aren't doing their job

im here to tell you
we are on your side

we lay in the grave next to you

dying to live

this winter
remember to kiss your scars
like they're your long, lost imaginary friends
but they're very real
(don't forget that)

im here to tell you
there has never been a better time
for healing

the air is heavy
and so is your heart

the world is not your enemy
that's you

from 'twice a day' to 'take as needed' /and my hands start to shake/ I am not ready for this responsibility/ the only other option/ is to admit there is a sharp thing/ deep inside of me that I do not know/ how to throw away/ the poet on stage/ who is a full decade younger than me/ says he is too old to still be taking about blood/ about scars/ about the sharp thing inside of him that will not die/ not knowing how to say/something inside of me is breaking/ I think of the pills/deep in my bag/ the new safety blanket/ I think of wine/ how many glasses I need to drink/ before I stop recognizing my handwriting/ I think of his bad excuses/ how he didn’t want to be another target for my sad/ didn’t want to get any blood on his collar/ and trail me into his home/ all this responsibility/ that he is not ready for/ like a boy who mows down a fawn/ without the decency/ of hauling the body to the side of the road/who just keeps driving/ whistling into his wide open future