You wore your pain and insecurity like a heavy coat and judged me for being naked

The mirror needs to
(spend good time self reflecting)
stop staring at *me!

It comes to fill an empty space
to fill in the spaces left by the loss of

our pores opened
our saliva blended
our sweat mingled
our velvet moments
our staccato line of site
our time spinning in reverse
our words spoken with our eyes
our family held together by a thread
our love stretched so thin over our bones

It comes like a dead wind
filling the emptiness left behind,
and I don't want that inspiration.

I didn't receive anything
I could hold in my hands
from you
But the best gift I received
this year on my birthday
was a chance.

I hold that
in my heart.

Trust, like a seed, must be maintained.
Nurtured with water, with warmth,
Time so it can blossom.

Be careful which basket you
let it lay; Whose,
and whether it'll stay afloat with storm,
Or what, drown with a false bottom.

Why is it so hard to find,
A mind with just enough just,
enough to stand loyally if it must?
Why is it so hard to find,
An old heart capable of new love,
parted from blue lust,
one that proves worthy of our trust?
There must.

Let's not let our folly champion before noon.
Our cores are defined by the rust we let bloom,
'Cause the oceans in our guts are meant to disperse.
So don't wait, don't let fate force your doom and your hearse.

We're only as strong as the emotions we put off,
and the dam you built is much too weak to hold loft.
Your waves will emerge, let them go, let them free,
And soon you will fall, hard earned trust, sailing soft at sea.

It'll be there, I swear.
It must, you'll see.

Trust me.

Drinking summer skin,
I hear the voices in the night sky
I'm a slave to the darkness around the stars,
and I can't remember why

One, two, twenty-three percocet in my soul.
Ambulance lights breathing throughout the mist.
Pump my stomach like the sawed-off shotgun
that I was too afraid to use,
because what if I 'miss'?
What spectrum of desolation to be traced with lips;
to kiss away the desire to exist.

Mirrored reflection injection causes the resurrection of my imperfection.
I see me for who I am, who I was, and who I won't be.
It's the collection of
my eyes dilating and my knees speculating their arrival
to the blue and white tiling disguised as neo-survival.
My mind is evaporating. My body begins to convulse.
I am a ghost in a machine. I am without a pulse