Why'd we stop writing
'bout love? was it the mortgage?
the kid? ambition?

You told me we would paint our bedroom orange and that we would have a boy and two girls and that our living room would have a big window and lots of those lame decorative pillows that everyone throws off on the couch.

You told me that every Christmas i would get to put a star on the tree and you would get to decorate it because you loved decorating the tree and one year you're going to put a ring at the top and that's how you would propose, you told me that.

You told me we would teach our kids how to tie their shoes with just one bunny ear because we grew up tying our shoes with two bunny ears and all the cool kids in kindergarten knew how to tie with just one.

You told me we would take a cooking class together and learn how to cook because you loved cooking but you weren't that good at it and I never knew what I was doing in the kitchen.

You told me that Ashley didn't matter to you but you ****** her any ways for four months straight and apologized and I told you I forgive you

You told me you wanted to see me the night after our big fight over the phone about how you never cared about me and I mean nothing too you and I told you I didn't want to see you but you showed up anyways and i melted into you and you told me you love me and I told you that I love you too and whispered in your ear that i forgive you

You told me that those texts from gabby didn't mean anything but I called you twice that night and you never answered and then someone sent me a picture of her sitting on your lap, you apologized and I told you i forgive you

You told me that I was over reacting when I didn't want you to go out with your boys that night in August when I wanted you to go with me to my friends birthday party. You went anyways and cheated on me and then apologized until I told you i forgive you

You told me that Amy was dating your work friend and you just drive her sometimes when she needs a ride but I found out you were taking her on dates and buying her lingerie then you apologized and I told you that i forgive you

You told me that I was the reason you weren't committed, that I couldn't hold you down, that you needed someone stronger with no baggage and bigger ******* to keep you grounded.

Sleep;
she is my mistress.
Her gentle love I can't deny.
Seduction.
Satisfaction.
How I lament an opened eye.

Oh,
what beauty I behold,
when I hold her in my eye.
But,
her face, behind a veil.
I cannot see it. How I try!

We meet in midnight hours.
Sometimes I go to her by day.
And I find her always anxious,
though she knows I cannot stay.

Solace,
she surrenders.
And what comfort I receive.
But,
it makes it only harder,
in the morning when I leave.

The desire in my eyes,
It is no secret for to see,
as I
awake
aside
a wife,
it is
asleep
I'd rather be.

I miss you but only in secret,
as a whisper,
it lives darkly within me.

It can't be strong,
only a quiet tide.

It can't be known,
because you don't belong to me.

He tasted like vanilla and reminded me of sweet summer nights and old worn out leather jackets. He was the rain on a hot day; the day you're usually begging for more from. I fell in love with him fast and quick. The let down was just as fast as I heard from a friend he hopped a train out of town & he wasn't seen again.

He tasted like fall. Fallen leaves and broken tree branches. Hints of spiced tea and buttered toast at breakfast. He had dark brown hair and bright green eyes. He was the apple cider with a shot of whiskey you ached for when you're roaming for the perfect pumpkin. I lost him in a corn maze to a girl with yellow hair, he smiled and said he was sorry. I heard they got married & have a baby on the way.

He tasted like ashes of a cigarette that wouldn't quite go away. He was sweeter than expected and awfully romantic when it suited him. He wore ripped jeans and this ugly orange beanie. He was cold though.. At times like a winter storm. His icy ways hit me in the face a couple times. Last I heard he was in Chicago now with some girl names Roxanne beating her like he did me.

He tasted like... Valentine's Day. Chocolates and red wine and rose petals on your bed. He smelled like cologne and wore his hair slicked back in that gentleman way. He rarely smiled but when he did it could have lit New York for days. He tasted like... Memories. Like walking down the hallway in school; smiling with secrets only you knew. He rarely laughed... But he did... He could have made symphonies jealous with that sound.

He's married now, two kids and a perfect house. He still wears his hair slicked back and I heard he doesn't smile much at all these days. I saw him once, he flashed that grin so ever lasting and for a brief moment...we both remembered the days when it was he and I against the world.

You should see the way I let myself drown within you. I've always had a terrible weakness for beautiful but damaging things. But I've never seen my love this red. I am desperate to burn and let the heat of my death be the fire that mocks the sun. And I'll take my abuse slow to let you know I'm here to worship you.

She married him only last week,
Seeing his caskate makes her weak,
Her tears a constant drizzle,
The 'why' is still a riddle
He was the only son of a widow,
always by her side like a shadow,
A stray bullet went through his head,
She meant the whole world,
His soulmate ,
heaven could not wait,
the worst landing of a pilot
She wishes she could change the  fate,
The priests says rest in peace,
The relatives bead their farewells,
In their dark dresses as it drizzles,
Her parents are now 'the late,'
Her only hope and light,
She is the  new target,
She seeks  the love in the streets,
He  finds comfort in his drinks,
Her old  heart weakens in her mourns,
A dark emptyness on each soul,
As days pass it gnaws and grows,
A passageway for the Angel in Black ,
YCan one break  the cycle?
Another procession of black lays the caskate,
No one escapes the fate,
    Rest In Peace.







Sending…

I am addicted to these sleepless nights, the ones where heart and mind are in a state of perpetual flight.
Hooked on these panic attacks that have plagued me every second since the day you left.
I have track marks from the harsh drugs that are your words, the ones you inject into my veins when all you want is for me to feel pain...
...and I have nothing to say for myself other than
I am an addict.