Cigarettes don’t make you cool or interesting.
They only **** what little life you were given.
But your lungs **** too,
so I’ll pass you a well-decorated lighter,
and we can have a smoke until our vision blurs

—or you begin to cough,
even though I warned you: we were never made for this.

Cigarettes don’t make you cool or interesting,
but they can make you sad.
 They can make you remember
what your father smelled like when you were nine.
 Sometimes, they taste like my bedroom carpet floor.
 Sometimes, I think of the puke that rested on it
after I drank too much ***** one night.

I hope you think I’m mysterious. 
I hope my lips taste like a powerful drug.
 I hope my personality is just as addictive as I am.
 And I hope I **** someone
just as slowly as the cigarettes do.

Beautiful ugly reflection –
slipping into the depths of your heartbreak;
Do you still tally your breaths – gasping for air!
At times, we drift so far from the warmth of home,
a cosmic wonder; yet the cosmos cradles the remnants
of extinguished stars.

Would you light a cigarette – to mask the fierce truths
of your spirit; those weary hands still possess a gentle
caress.

A handshake fraught with shaky bonds – bond to your
insecurities; anchoring you in a realm of perpetual self-doubt.

                   You are worth infinitely more, my mirrored self.

picking flowers off your nonchalance
i can't stand it
i can't stand here
it's very clear
that you don't want me here
but what it does
its like giving you a shove
stop comparing
stop caring
like a drug
it makes you almost like a rug
except i'm dragging you out of the ruck
into the trash
out in a bag
but what else could you have done?

i've yet to break out of my shell
i've yet to know who i am
i've yet to find a purpose

yet i've died a million times
rebirthed into a vacuous cocoon
wrapped, trapped, in restraints

i've yet to break
i've yet to live
i've yet to love

yet you have lost me too many times
you've yet to know me
you've yet to love me

you've yet to accept me
yet you say you love me,
trapped
but i've yet to find my own strength
and once i do -
i will break out
i will live
i will love
i will be.

_

I’ve slipped into a realm of love, ensnared by
yet another crush— no wet floor signs in sight!
Overthinking, deep thinking; I am adrift in an
ocean of thoughts— no life jackets in sight!
I’ve been a jug of emotions, constantly pouring
out my heart— yet these days, I offer only a cup.

These eyes, are crafted from paper, with all these
drawn-out plans— crinkled, and crushed!
Cast aside like a forsaken heart, unguarded by the
walls I used to bring up— please, don’t bring up my
reluctance to divulge too much— not much to say!

Just pinch me to the starkness of reality; I have
been tickled by the allure of dreams too much.

The thought I meant to write
was lovely and serene, but gone
before I found the words to make it stay.

Perhaps it had the wrong address, was meant
for someone else and fled, embarrassed to be seen
instead by me;

Or maybe it was floating free
And somehow blundered into me
But barely made a dent and didn’t stay;

Or it could have been a wayward dream
Stranded on this side of sleep
Waiting for the night to slip away;

Most likely just a thought of mine,
But one I couldn’t grasp in time,
And remember as the thought that got away.