i bleed in a lovely chorus
that haunts my resonant lungs
striking harmonies in my veins

my broken bones crackle percussively
throbbing through my muscles
creating a beat felt in the depths of my gut

every time i break
music erupts
from the pieces

and for you
i will become
the most beautiful song

all of our memories
are reconstructions
of things
we think to be

maybe that's why
i thought
we'd always be a
we

used to think i was so wise
yes, my words were so clever
and now i stare at my demise
regretting my foolish endeavour

i thought my words could hold you
that they would show you my heart
but you just saw right through
my carefully crafted piece of art

i used to think
i was so
clever

but these tears
are evidence
of my stupidity

the sunlight was so loud
but i couldn't hear it
because it doesn't shine
on me
when you aren't around

you wore my
blue flannel
and i wore my
smile

when i gave you my heart
i didn't know that yours
came with strings
and you could tug
on them
whenever the ******* felt like it

please, love,
do not look
away

a void
would be preferable
to your eyes
avoiding mine

who knew that a broken heart
would taste so good

i emptied
myself out

it took awhile
but through all those
tears

i think i'm finally
hollow

you weren't a
book for me
to read

you weren't a
movie for me
to watch

you're still being
written
you're still being
made

so am i
and i'm so sorry
for expecting
you to be
a finished product

when i sit here
on the
potter's wheel

i am jet lagged
but not from flying;

from falling

i'd cry

but
i'd have to have
tears to give

i'd laugh

but
i'd have to have
air to spend

i'd bleed

but
i'd have to have
blood in my veins

i'd love

but
i'd have to have
a heart in my chest

the clock is time
ticking away
going on without us

the hourglass is our time
draining slowly
running out grain by grain

you tipped
my hourglass
over
so that time stood still

and broke the glass at both ends
when you walked away
leaving my heart
bleeding
in the sand,

my time in a
meaningless
heap

when i left my mark
i didn't think
it would be a scar

i dreamed of it being a handprint
on your heart
but i see now, that i've only cut it open

and sorry is not the bandage that i once believed it could be
time no longer the cure i had labeled it

i see now why the doctor prescribed those
shifting glances
and one word responses

because i am just a relapse waiting to happen