you love him
you love his smooth hands and his rough cheek
you love your hands in his denim shirt
and the cinematography of you together
everything else is an afterthought

the knife in his eyes that is not always pointed at you
but when it is
you kiss the fist that rattles plates
the lips that wrap around clenched teeth
melt him

fail to understand his poison tipped arrows
that are aimed at the mother who threw bottles
if he could only pick one more fight it'd be with his father
you kiss him when he knocks his brother's teeth out

he leaves in the morning for coffee and comes back a day later
welcome him with open arms and abundant questions
he will be a tower of irritation and concrete
he will point fingers that will curl into fists
but they are not fists for you
they are for the devils that dance within him
and behind his wild eyes
and in his childhood home

you will not be fooled
he loves you
you know by every sweetheart and the lips on your forehead and the way he smells in between the sheets each night

he leaves
he comes back
purple flowers that bloom around his eyes are the bouquets he brings home for you
the front porch sags when he puts his hands in his pockets
his face buried in your chest
on nights when the lamp swings a little too low
and his body is wracked with sobbing and shoulders shaking

he mourns the gentle temper he never had
he mourns what he would be like without you
he mourns what you would be like without him
this is how he loves you

your hands in his hair easing soothing shh shh
you are the mother who left
you are better than every last ex-girlfriend
for reasons he will be happy to name
this is how you love him

you came because you are drawn to the shipwrecks
but you stayed in the water for him
ancient child
furious soul
you salt his wounds
and then you clean them
this is how you love him

I am madness,
and sunshine while it rains
but I am no rainbow
there's no light at the end of this tunnel
only darkness
lit by florescent counterfeits.
I am a wind storm
messy, never dangerous
but always unpredictable.
I have spent my days
worried with things I cannot control
and I so badly want
something I can hold close to.
But I am solid as a rock
and when I approach you
it will cause some damage.
I have known for a long time
that loving me is hard
because I've tried
and even I get tired.
I am clay,
easily molded
but when left dry and untouched
I turn to stone.
It may take some time,
but even a diamond
needs pressure
to be beautiful.

The mind,
The body.
The heart.
The lungs.

We all think,
We are immortal.
**** you were wrong.

Our hearts beat,
In constant flow.
Providing your body.
With oxygenated blood.

Fear thy fatal crash or wound.
For it will end your life,
Faster than you can blink.

they say love yourself
and accept the things that make you
who you are

they make it sound as simple as
plucking flowers
and tearing its petals off
one by one
hate or love?

but what will i do,
if i cannot love myself?

oh, but you're pretty,
you're skinny enough,
you get good grades
as if this justify that i
cannot be sad and have a
"good" life in the eyes of society?

you have never been in my own skin
it reeks of hatred and sadness
as if our bones are filled with sorrow
and broken promises of tomorrow

sometimes i get sad over stupid things
but maybe because i bottled up all my feelings
i replay memories non-stop
and this is an addiction of mine
i get drunk on the idea of love
but i push people away
then wonder why they always leave

so i hated myself
more and more
until there's nothing left
for me to hate but
my beating heart

you love the idea of being loved,
but not me

I don't know
If I'm tired or depressed
But all I know
Is I don't want to leave my bed.

We.
In a table together
choked with warm colors
of our skin.
Suspended by the music
my breaths
and your prayers.
Hostages of our desires.
Trapped by life.