"It is no longer a question of "Should I stay?" ...but rather, "When should I go?"

For, you see, I no longer crave your attention the way I used to. Nor have you craved mine.

I see they way your eyes glance at me, when you believe I'm no longer looking- eyes with a sharp pain that acknowledges that yes, we have both changed.

And it wasn't when you said, "I want the old you back" that I first realized it- we, had faded away, but rather the first time I caught myself with my eyes open during our kiss.... the first time I said an empty "I love you too."

For I was always taught to be truthful, but in the moment, the lie was so natural, so convenient, that I didn't want to ruin the memories of a perfect something.

How had I not seen this coming?
When should I go?
How could I ever leave this?

These are all questions that will ruin me."

I was going through my drafts when I found this from February of this past year. Isn't it ironic how the tables have turned? Because February turned into August, and now I am begging you to stay as you tell me you have to go-- that you want to leave me.  

And now I'm sitting here wondering how I could have ever written that I couldn't have loved this man, but according to the February me, I was preparing myself for this fall all along.

My heart is hurting since he told me he has not felt anything for a long time. And, apparently, neither had I.

I tasted sweetness
My mind wandered
you had the key
to the deepest chambers

Imagination created wolves
howling to the moon,
me, imitating them as
you tasted sweetness
(and success)

Flashes of primary colours
washed my thoughts
into a rainbow sliding
around to the next where we
would finally
both taste the sweetness

sorry cut it that night and every time I think of someone else you slip into my mind
this is a nightmare I can't escape while I'm awake
I told you this would end and I told you I was more trouble than you would come to realize I'm worth
Do you want to know why?
To ease the blow when it all inevitably fell apart, leave the door creaked open so when you left it was soundless & painless
Oh god, but the pain is relentless
I fell in love
You taught me to trust is to be deceived, but to hold a knife behind your back was to be careful
So tell me...
do words matter if there isn't anyone to hear them?

YOU WERE THE CHURNING STORM
I WAS LOST AT SEA

a throbbing pain in my forehead
a want to lavishly lay on bed and sleep for eternity
but a want to wake up to see the lavender blue light
to think about the beauty in life
to open the window and tell the neighborhood man about the stitch on his holiday sweater
when the sun peers through the window and time slow down to the extent that dust dances along the rays of light
warmth is nostalgia of living life
being human  


i miss you so


in regards towards never touching your skin or tracing the words of a conversation so haphazardly spoken
the words meticulously chosen out of pride and embarrassment
i think I might have died inside you
i think I quite love you
let me sit down on stark grass and open a book
let me stutter as my tongue fanthoms elegance
buzz with a frequency that trails my head and tells me to slam my head against a locker in joy
why did you slip her a letter when ive written thirteen about you and your steady heartbeat and how i hear it when i walk in
about that tone in your voice when your mother decides to cry
or how i would split open my right brain
a hope of proving that what is illogical
what drove the man of pompeii to open his mouth in hopes of cleansing his ****** soul
who smiled as he cut his throat

I DON'T REMEMBER HOW TO FEEL LOVE
WITHOUT FEAR

BEING THE AIR IN MY LUNGS
IS NOT YOUR BURDEN TO BEAR

EVERYONE LEAVES EVENTUALLY
SO I WILL HURT YOU BEFORE YOU HURT ME

How will I ever edit my drafts
of oceans of thoughts
encompassed my breezes whispering your name
and fathom them into poems
or mere glimpses of words
so that you may finally understand.