i taste
like smoke
like the seven hours i’ve spent
lying on my living room floor
awake
listening to traffic.

i smell
like smoke
like a pack a day in the heat and rain
inhaling something
intangible.

you are
fresh air
breathing hope into my lungs
lifting me off of the rental home brown
carpet

The approaching army of the sky silences
cries of loss and sorrow.
The rapidly darkening clouds above,
whilst pouring out a growl,
stirs the citizens down below.
Awakening with innate fear,
the streets clear.

The blue skies and sun succumb to the invasion;
fear reigns.
The murderous grey mass hurls deadly spears.
Carefully directed.
A volley of missiles is followed by a ground-trembling roar,
and yet more spears,
more ferocious, silent, but lethal.

Hearts beat, fast, close, one, two.
Awkward conversation is struck.
All hide their fear behind a tattered curtain of optimism.
The pinnacle, the flourish of the storm,
leaves powerful impressions.
Reminiscent of a warning;
a timely reminder.

The roar of the beast slowly creeps into the distance, subsiding.
Leaving only the rhythmic pitter-patter of tears
from a thousand floating monsters
decorating the night sky.

this sound is dangerously new
and his key is something
you’re not tuned to.
you are paper thin,
willow girl. nothing’s there
inside you to drive the hurt
away.
it will take a year
but you will leave him in your
best friend’s room
after telling the new boy about
your dreams and kissing him
as the grass turns golden.

2.
you’ve got hold of the rhythm
but you’re still stumbling
over fingerings, especially his.
he doesn’t know how to love
something like you and
you know it, but you’re
drowning in the way he
teaches your mother how to
count measures over dinner.
he will leave you in the field
that he carried you through
when your foot was hurt,
and you will cry and call
your best friend but fighting
means she doesn’t pick up.
you will sit alone there,
but don’t worry —
he is the only one
who will ever leave first.

3.
you should’ve known there was
something wrong about kissing the
boy whose apartment used to
give you nightmares. you will get away
before he can hurt you while
you aren’t sleeping.

4.
he doesn’t deserve to be the one
whose hand you’ll be holding
when you realize that you
can only ever lose yourself
in girls.

5.
she will coax out all the
notes in you that you never
knew you could hit,
but when your pitch starts
to fall she won’t be there
to even you out.
her touch will take ages
to rub off your skin and when
she comes back to you
with all her pegs out of place
you will only smile
and plug your ears.

6.
she will be the one
who teaches you that it is
usually best to stay far away
from the only person you can’t
begin to wrap your head around.
hearts have always worked
the same way.

7.
her touch will make the stars
less endless and the mountains
more suffocating. her curls will
tease your chest and snake around
your neck and you won’t know why
you don’t want them to.

8.
you will never find enough cadenzas
for a calamity like this.
she’s the girl who will kiss you
between boulders and show you
what a mountaintop sunset
really means and you will
love her like you’re not supposed
to love anyone yet; she will
turn you selfless and see-through
and broken and you will take
too long to see how she is
shattering you.

9.
you’re out of breath by now
but it’s okay —
the only notes you’ll ever
need to play with her arms
around you are the ones
that ring, “i’m safe.
i’m safe. i’m safe.”