some days are colder than they are
warm.
and others are like stars in the sky
-lanterns in an otherwise endless night.

some days you wonder if you should try to leave at all,
if you should just go back to your books,
your music.
and other times you show your face to the world,
dance in clothes that you no longer hide in.

some days you agree that you’re ugly,
worthless,
useless,
and you allow them to draw their brushes across your faces,
making you pretty.

pretty. you’d never know.

and others say we tell them that we’re all beautiful,
but we sure aren’t pretty,
and there’s nothing wrong with our insides,
or perhaps the way we’ve chosen to show ourselves
-it’s all perfect.

every ugly bit.

some days we feel as if our worries,
heartache,
sadness,
emptiness
make this life worthless,
and we believe that that’s all we have
-that they’re worth ending it all over.

we’re wrong.

nothing’s worth that
-there are beautiful things like love,
courage,
smiles,
songs,
and our very own lives.

as ****** up as we may think they are.

I remember the evening
that we sat clinging
to paper cups
of coffee gone cold

over secrets spilled and memories told
two bodies cursed
with hearts grown old

behind your eyes
I found new worlds
A winding road stretched out for miles
to a small cafe at the end of the isle

Sweet pastries filled the mouths
of those who sat beside us
and stayed for a while.

How the hours went by,
people just passing through
The descending sun ending
a forever with you.

oh, oh,
you,
you made flowers grow in my lungs
-sweetheart, they’re so lovely,
but i cannot breathe.

ruby shards pierce my ears,
clear as glass, sharp as blades,
and you,
oh you,
are oceans away.

empty mornings,
late night smokes
-who i am i kidding
all i do is watch the clouds,
while you,
you,
are adrift.

i got the good side of things,
let your own heart bleed gold,
as i left in a tornado
of roses intertwined with a
soft musical song.

your name on my lips,
a whisper in the night
-ten thousand enunciations,
do you even know my name?
what’s my name?

they fall like rain
white and pink and red and blue,
fluttering wings, little butterflies
you call them pretty,
as they cascade to the floor,
little whirlwinds,
tiny storms.

roses, roses,
they all fall down,
pick up my petals
i’ll be ashes in the ground.

in my dreams,
you twirl me around,
soft hands in my hair,
eyes on mine,
golden mornings and moonlit nights.

each morning, morning i wake in your arms,
every night we’re under the garden’s bridges,
a soft waltz,
for softer caresses,
and yet the petals fall all around.

roses, roses,
they all fall down,
pick up my petals
i’ll be ashes in the ground.

i don’t dream anymore,
all my days i lay in the sunlight
-dreams of mornings fill my head,
as i grasp rose petals,
strewn like dreams all around.

summer turns to winter,
spring won’t come for me,
the last spring i’ll ever know,
there are rose petals on top of me and i’m six feet below.  

roses, roses,
they all fell down,
you didn’t pick up my petals
so now i’m ashes in the ground.

each thought is lighting,
across a mess
-of weaving gardens,
where roses cough up petals.

strange creatures with thorny hearts,
soft champagne made of tea and of gold,
i wonder i wonder how this beautiful world,
this beautiful world,
became so dark.

they fall, i fall,
down a rabbit hole,
where queens of red tear my thoughts,
and queens of white eat my heart.

i wonder, wonder how each creature changed,
when i fell down the rabbit hole.
sweet little bugs you’re giant monsters,
decadent cakes you’re made of scents,
clear water you’re cold.

soft little hearts, notes between schoolboys
suddenly rip my skin,
pumpkin mazes where i used to wander
they pull me under,
under in the dark.

they fall, i fall,
down a rabbit hole,
where queens of red tear my thoughts,
and queens of white eat my heart.

they fall, i fall,
(roses and petals)
down a rabbit hole,
(thorny hearts)
where queens of red tear my head,
(this beautiful world)
and queens of white eat my heart.
(so dark)

last night i dreamt
the moon was made of gold,
with a dangling halo of silver gossamer
-and i, hanging from the threads,
grasping at whispers as i fell into to the sky.

her voice,
the moon that is,
had fallen from a sweet dulcet melody
to a voice made of sugar and honey
and so i fell from the stars into her arms.

the water had risen
so many springs ago,
as water from the tears of the stone maidens
emptied into the sea.

the sky was clear then,
when only the stars blemished the midnight canvas,
and i raised my hand above the water
clear droplets streaming down velvet skin,
and touched your cold face
murmuring a soft hello.

last night i dreamt again
of your response the first night,
when you laughed
you threw your head back,
and i saw the stars ripple through your hair,
the light in your eyes brighter than a thousand flames
when you asked for my name.

you sang to me again,
your voice wrapping around my body
in glittering strings, golden and soft
and carried me up into the sky
wrapping me in a lullaby.

she sings herself a lullaby at night,
weaving herself a thousand dreams.
she’s going to leave this place,
repeated over and over
-like a prayer on her chapped winter lips,
made to long dead gods.

she dreams at night that she is the sun,
and she holds her lover’s cold face in her hands,
pale eyes and a soft pale light tickling her cheeks.

she dreams that she is among the stars,
free from the evils that paralyzed her,
the hands that pulled her away from her dance;
beside the river and under the stars,
walking the path where stars the floated along a deep blue road.

among the stars,
where the world pulls her closer and closer
where every night becomes worthy
-every nights she slept with ink stained hands,
weary eyes,
tired hands that can barely pull her knotted hair away,
and frayed pajamas.
every night she wondered if the world wasn’t for her.

now she sleeps in her bed,
under a canopy of far away fairy lights,
in the milky moonlight
she whispers to herself another prayer
-the stars are watching over me.