We laid naked in your bed as the night grew old
the sushi in our stomachs worn down by now
we talked a little
it seemed like a solution to fill the voids brought from silence
you didn't kiss me enough
i sat up to look at you and let moonlight dance across my chest
you laid in the shadow of the moon
and told me i was beautiful
i took my eyes off of your figure to let them glide over my pale curves and wild curls
a fleeting moment i took to grace myself
i glanced out your window
it stopped snowing mostly and i felt low
somehow, the static appearance of outside spoke louder than your room
you asked me distinct things
which i now know
were the answers to your very last test
one week later, this mess was at rest
the snow accumulated heavily the following days
just like it had that very night
only before we laid among your sheets
and like the words in my mind,
there was more
and i was torn

I still remember that story you wrote.
The one with barren coal mine town.
You shared it with me beneath the summer sky after we watched the stars.
More than that, I remember how you left me,
like that abandoned coal mine town.
I tend to dumb what i know i have hold of.
So part of me always knew
I never really had you.

Inside the Masonite
The contour lines aren't dark enough
Left behind a stark remark
Start as a lark in the dark
And you're smart for standing there
Behind the mines
But on top of boxes
And piles of boxes
Cigarette buts on the curb, left behind from following the curb line
Down the road
Around the mounds and above the dips
Follow the curb line up
Don't fall into a drain
Because the drains will always lead you somewhere
But they always end
And they're never clean