'and' was a continuation
and so you loved that word and hated endings
and you let your fingers weave the word over and over,
(delicate hands pressing them into your skin
as if to ensure your immortality,
push away whatever time wanted you to be, but the sun rose and set
and nights were only dank reminders of morrows after)
and besides you seemed quite tired as if you'd been holding the stars
in your arms for far too long
and they didn't even bother to shine for you

                                                      you look like loneliness has taken its toll

and your legs, weary with time, couldn't hold you anymore
and let your body collide with stardust
and the tips of your hair brushed the page that teemed with life,
that filled with doodles and words and and and and and and

                                                        you look like 'and' has taken its toll

and your eyes were dark and sunken, empty black abysses, eclipses
that stole the sun
and your lips were chapped and cracked, a jagged strip of the Milky Way
and your cheeks grayed and faded, stars that had lost their shine
and your stomach caved in on itself to let your rip cage and hip bones protrude (because it loved them both but they were too infatuated by your skin and clung to it like it was life after an ending)
and your skin was a painting, a Starry Night, and you were Van Gogh
(except you carved with knife and colored your blue skies with red stars)
and your eyelids were drooping, full moons falling into perfect crescents
and your lungs were containers without air,
galaxies without solar systems

                                                        you look like you're dying

and your fake smiles and midnight tears were like meteorites in the sky,
they were like comets, falling, falling, falling,
falling from home,
falling towards stone cold ground.
and the saddest part was,

*they never got back up.

Urge
to throw myself across the finish line
let in envelope me in arms
cold as death
let myself curl into a ball
in that dark, vast space of unconsciousness
where I will be,
undoubtedly,
forgiven.

Train take me away
so that reality dies
and everything fades to nothing
but a blur of faces
and places I've never been to, never will.

Just take me away
so that I won't have to face
Tomorrow.

the words hide between the lines
i can't see
none will appear, none
will grace the page
only splatter red paint
onto the ****** canvas—
where i have bled out my soul, my heart,
my flesh and bone—

and for what?

the heat melted off our layers
of trust and skin, stripping us
naked and vulnerable,
scared and suspicious.
the summer peeled us apart,
cast us strangers.
*Who are you?

I cut myself open, peeked inside
to look for remorse
but found none.
You see, it was empty.

as if I had hid under the covers,
forgot to breathe
so that all my insides strangled
and only remembered how to die.

your sky was a catastrophe.
not the inky black type and not the somber gray type either—no,
those were too cliché for you.
your sky was a shade between blue and gray,
the color of dejection, of loneliness
for it was only a shade in between.
never a whole
only half a mind,
and half a soul.