instead of being intertwined we’re the farthest we’ve ever been
i chose to look within
you always chose the life of sin
i stopped trying to be perfect and had to partake
i too wanna eat and have my cake
what was once golden has turned to rust
i understand why they say nothing lasts forever
cause everything is so mother ******* fallible
i had no choice but to pick up the pieces all by my lonesome and gained confidence with each step and each breath
what once felt heavy is now being forgotten
oh how lovely life can be when you forget
thank you for breaking my heart because i would’ve never had the strength to let you go
each event which you performed against me pushed me further and further away
from the love i kept in my heart for you
it seems to have disappeared and i can’t find it these days
i still believe in love
i still feel the warmth and always hope for the best
life is just a test
it’s sifting and then we’re blessed
this will be the last poem i ever write about you
i might’ve misconstrued the motion
i promise to write about a new love from here on out
just disregard this notion

if i could go back to that day…. i would
not to captive your smile or remember what you first said to me
by now you’re dead to me
if i could go back, i would hold the hands of time tight
memorize each tick
expose some more light
i would look you in the eyes with your hands ready to receive
and ignore your existence
possibly make you bleed
i can just imagine how free i would be
if i could go back i would’ve never given you the time of day
i gave it like a gift so freely and without dismay
i wish i could go back and ****** it from your hands
my heart, my time and everything in between which continued to stand
someday my heart won’t feel so heavy from regret
everyday it feels like a reset
metamorphosis amongst the pain
i’m keeping sunshine on my brain
i take everything in stride cause it’ll come full circle
someday that love i gave will come back
i find my peace in that

salt in the wounds.
slab laid out on stainless steel

deathbed-

it is a bed after all,
a bed is for sleep and comfort dreams

but more often than not
i thrash in to it

trying to break the ribs of my
nightmares.

your letters, written to coax an empty heart.
an illusion written with dying lead,
begging to fade away.
it is still beautiful, marching in formation
on the loose leaf paper towards the end.
your signature,
which stands to be the only thing left true.
I keep it,
a reminder how lies are beautiful
in your handwriting.

the piano you played for me
their keys light like the sun
in your eyes gently playing me
a song we wrote between shared cups
of tea, picked flowers in the field
shoved into a pocket always big enough to fit
both of our hands.

my life line moves across
your chest
your love line inches towards
my lower back
reading your palms
under the thin covers
summer air blows into our hair
permeating the smell
of grass and warm flowers

we embrace
the unknowable future crushed
between our palms.

I know the lingerie is meant to be taken off, but
my nakedness makes my eyes dart quick and
count every hair on my skin.
picking scabs turns into scars that
I have yet to tell you about.
without permission, I close my eyes
as you love me in the dark and
I wonder if you’re counting too.

I miss my freedom within your absence,
when I stretched between the memories.
Now I'm stuck between the moments,
my eyes tired from believing
your arms were safe for me to sleep in.