birds of a feather
no one has put

two and two
together

daisies gone
Occam’s razor

and he
our common denominator

no monsters under his bed
but in it

scars ripped open
I thought had healed

hurt to heal
heal to hurt

words I had never spoken
out loud before

hot lava
righteous anger

memory loss &
found negatives

was that a kindness?
to ply me with alcohol so that I wouldn't remember?

two weeks
no sleep no eat

hurt to heal
heal to hurt

a new hurt
to contend with

suddenly ghosted
back in the dark

like all dark
eating away at light

till only the stars remain
maybe signalling

to one another
I see you, I see

you, I
see

You were always a 12-hour shift
Just two punches of my lips
Once in at 10PM
And once out at 10AM
An easy rhythm of making sure you were satisfied
I quit, but I forgot to clock out
And this ******* feeling never seems to fade even after I worked my last shift.

The universe told him
He could never
would never
love her
enough
to heal
her broken
empty
dark
thundering
heart
but he didnt care
he didnt listen
he loved her
enough
to heal
her now
full
bright
shining
heart

august was in a drought
a literal burden to my thoughts
i thought i was gonna die out
but here standing on my way out

add my name to your medal tray
i was your eleventh or twelfth prey
once your gold in the bay
then only a ghost in your days

has come the september
i hope no more sobber
that person could’ve been better
but then proven to be disaster

and time is ticking
here i'm hoping
it will erase every single thing
cause i won’t hold on to nothing

and i might live with the pain
but it will heal under the rain
it's foolish to believe you were a saint
but one day what you plant is what you gain

broken hearts
tend to heal
people move on
         ~          
you're not dying
you will live without me
you will meet another girl
with pretty brown eyes
and a careful soul
or maybe she'll be different
who knows?

point is:
i wont feel bad
for your broken heart
it'll fix itself in time
ask any of the people
that loved me before
you'll get over it
         ~
they always do

Above the shoulders.
Under the tip,
Ferrero Roche of
The tongue
Saving a pendulum
Swinging thing
Appraised like the ocean in gentle breeze
Under a dip,
Taking care of an anchor
Delving toward the Earth and sky.

the bridge we had built stood wooly on its frame,
despite our best efforts, it collapsed
under the weight of darkness
and it never stood again

a few years later
new houses appeared
at the edge of the river
nobody there to remember
the other side of it