i've lined his sheets with
"tell me more"
"please don't go"
"lock the door"
and "pull me closer"

we've sewn
phrases, unintelligible noises, and whispers
into the mattress
one great cross-stitch
spread across the box spring

he's etched my skin with
"take your time"
"can i stay?"
"that doesn't rhyme"
and November Gray

we've read
excerpts, classics, and unfinished plots
among the sheets
words: a vehicle
to take us anywhere

(why buy the cow
when you can get the milk
for free)

only works as a
metaphor

if you believe
yourself a commodity.

I keep trying to fill the void
With other people's voices.

It feels so quiet
Without you here.

I used to long for death.
Now I'm pleading it to stop.
Never appreciated life.
Now I can't get enough.
No forever is never promised.  
It can never be set in stone.
Lately my body has been deteriorating.
The only way to vent is here.
You see I have two lumps in my neck.
Nobody knows what it is yet.
Could be nothing could be something.
It varies from thyroid... lympth nodes swelling... all the way down to lymphoma, aka cancer.
They tell me not to worry.
It's best to prepare yourself for worse.
What if I am dying.
Atleast I'll be ready when my time comes.
After all we are all dying.
Life is inevitable.  
Life is unovoidable.
But death is inevitable as well.
There is no going around it.
You and I.
One day we are both going to die.
Maybe tomorrow maybe 13 years from now.
Life is not promised.
I remember last night.
I told her I could potentially be dying.
I told her not to worry.
I told her it probably isn't anything bad.
She tried to fight the tears then the began to flow.
Steady like a stream.
She was breaking because of me.
I told her I need you to be strong.
She said if I died she wouldn't go on.
She said you are the one I wanted all along.
What if this sky wizard called god is out to ruin us.
I asked why he would do that.
She just replied don't go cursing Sky wizards.
If there's a god I couldn't imagine him doing a thing.
Killing a girl at 16.
Taking my life when I've only just begun.
I used to beg for my end.
Little did I know I had only just begun.

I want to write poetry
On your hips and
Pull the words against me
Rocking and twisting
With each other
I want to make art

You become my words,
When I became speechless.
You became my sunshine,
When I drowned in darkness.
You became my inspiration,
To wake up and live my dream.
You became my reason,
My pride, treasure and esteem.
You my darling, became my Kanna,
My strength, love and best friend.
You and I are now not two, but one,
Together, forever, beyond every end.

Cup after cup.

From the bottom of a well
lined with discarded mugs from
memorabilia shops
I strain my eyes
and through my tangled eyelashes
I fight for vision between sun rays.

The world might always smell like
coffee gone cold.