Doctor, oh doctor
Help me breath again,
Stitch up the lines on my wrist
And paint my desolate brain

Doctor, oh doctor
I couldn't feel my face
They told me I would be okay,
They told me it was just a phase

Doctor, oh doctor,
I feel like death
Everything hurts,
And I don't want to breathe again

We sit in silence.
Blue and gray shadows dance upon our walls.
******* TV.

We sit with our feet touching.
But we are miles apart.
How did we get here?
I always ask the same question.
How did we ******* get here?

We have had love.
We have had such good times.
Unimaginably good times.
Waves of laughter.
Kisses with no end.
Holding hands in parking lots.

Now I feel that you don't even want to touch me.
I feel that you have no reason to love me.
I don't understand.

I want your love.
I want your touch.
I want your skin upon mine.
I want to make up.
I want to make love.

These things, I fear, will never happen.

We fight.
We ****.

How much longer can one heart sustain this?
How much desolation can ones bones bear?

I hear the rain upon the rooftop.
I hear the trees cracking outside.
I hear my insanity screaming inside my head.
It's a deafening silence.

My skin is on fire.
Too tight.
My blood is hot and thick inside my veins.
It needs escape.

I need to see red.
I need a razor.

I'm drowning in a sea of my own blood.
Choking on my teeth.

Tremors, filagrees, tendrils
Laughter and lamentation
Coffee conversation
Nonchalant smoking of a cigarette
passed between street-stained fingertips.

He draws pictures in films of sugar
piled high like illuminating sand dunes
on the formica tabletop,
dismissing eye contact as
just one of those things.

Take it or leave it.

The menu we've seen before
in various other places
just like this
with similar generic names
and similar generic faces.

Places a crumpled dollar bill
in front of the waitress
"We'll share a coffee"

Such is the way of life when you're broke and homeless.

Two hearts,
desolate and yearning,
are put through the tedious test
of finding one another,
and they do,
they live as happily ever after as they can in this broken world

Looking up at the moon
*My god she looks lonely

Stepping on the corpses of all you've known
trekking through the field of bones
the sirens sing, green angels with broken wings
like a  desolate future, in need of suture
I see a patina on everything, rustic brains
you can always find some sign of life
for there is always life within something
rose still exist among the filth and ****
there will always be beauty in the lies
and in the truths that flow through our mouths

My heart, a hospice house
For all my hopes and dreams
My mind, a prison
Where thoughts shake their shackles
My eyes, are windows
With curtains always drawn

From a cold breeze blows
Unforgiving of the little flower
Catching hold strangling the life
Keeping abreeze
Evermore alone
Drifting seamlessly endlessly

Understanding the flower will never be again enrooted
P*ieces slowly fall and the cold breeze blows it all away

Your kindness has killed me.

It wasn't too sweet, not saccharine,
you came with a hint of lemon-sharp smiles
and mischievous eyes, cheek slipping off your tongue
to fall on my skin like a bluntly barbed-caress,
each laugh a knife that cuts me to remember.
I barely knew you but even so, I think it was enough
to slip into loving him who I perceived you to be.