Everyone says
That the world could not survive without art;
Then why is it
That the artist is struggling to survive in this world?

I am nothing but a carcass,
Gorgeously corroding,
A mind that slowly decays over time
And flesh that mimicks my insides.
And within a couple short centuries
I will be nothing but dust,
memories,
And a cracked headstone.

I want to break into your liquor cabinet
And write my name on the bottoms of all the bottles
So you can be reminded
Of why you're drinking in the first place.

Some people only live vicariously through danger;
Others, like us, are curious enough to participate.

When you are not looking
Someone will quietly step beside you
And the air will change
And your blood will course redder
And time
Will slowly
Stop.

When the world asks for a quiet place to sleep
I will tell it to travel to the time when I realized
You weren't coming back
And have it watch as I spit out all these broken silences
And call it poetry.

When you broke
The paramedics couldn't tell the difference
Between my hands
And the shattered glass I was clutching,
Because the rainbow shards
That made up my heart blended with yours
And they laughed at us for being foolish enough
To think that letting the light shine through
Our impure glass hearts
Was a good idea.