You told me to live each day like it's my last,
Never hold back,
Be dangerously impulsive.
As long as it kept me happy.
But you never told me I could lose things while doing so...
I was the Same as you,
Impulsive teenagers in love.
I kept you for a while,
But then you acted impulsively.
Things took a step back,
We were no longer we,
You and then there's me...
You kept living,
Kept happy.
I remained impulsive.
Heat of the moment,
Bleeding to death slowly .
No impulse there.

a gross habit
i don't think i'll ever break
picking at my scabs.
when i was younger
my mom would get after me
but i never listened.

and now here i am
23 years old
still pick, pick, picking away.
a cycle.
like a phoenix
sort of.
i guess.
new life in new skin
death when i peel it back.
repeat, repeat, repeat.

On impulse I sputter to life,
New lungs spitting blue into the sky.
Fingers wet with the tide

That as yet
        Unspoken
                 Need

Clinging with infant fingers to my ribs.

Trap in human skin.

I reach back into the bliss,
Savoring the sensation of sin slithered across my tongue.

I have been frozen in the sun.

In dreams my respite comes,

But oh, the night slips softly away.
That unfinished chapter dissolving into day
Leaving its scent to crawl beneath my door,

That incessant, leery, lust for more.

And the terror of knowing that soon

It must

End.