Pathetic lows
   & synthetic highs
These are my sick little lullibies

   Blatant lies
& violent goodbyes
Relentlessly endlessly lonely nights

  Counting minutes
like sheep
      & losing sleep
    Breaking
Like the promises
We swore
  We would keep

Pathetic lows
  & synthetic highs
These
  Are my sick little lullabies

Maybe this doesn't matter at all
Especially because the way I may have treated you,
and maybe you'll never even see this,
but if you do,
I think that you should know some things.
I beat myself up a lot.
Fully responsible for the pain that you endured.
I think about you
outside
in the rain
in the gutter.
I notice you. Constantly.
In the back of my mind.
Something completely beautiful.
There's something gorgeous about the way the rain hides your tears.
About the way you look with wet hair.
I constantly want to go outside
and bring you in
and make you soup
and cocoa
and tea.
I want to help you get undressed
and dry you off,
changing into something,
soft and warm.
Safe.
I'll wrap you in a towel
and wrap you in my arms.
Tracing your figure gently,
like the road going home.
We'll construct a blanket fort.
And it'll be our secret castle.
Away from the world.
I see you shrinking.
I know that you are.
But maybe we could shrink down together
and make our fort an entire estate;
where I can make a memory with you
in each achre.
And when it gets cold,
we can scrimp and save,
and rent a dollhouse
for our summer home.
You wont have to worry
about other people seeing you sweat.
We'll close the blinds and draw the curtains
and stay naked-
vulnerable.
A place of our own creation.
You and me.
I think about the things we shared.
The late nights.
The secrets.
I always wonder how you are.
I long for you.
I crave your words like I crave
the nicotine, or the alchohol, or the abuse
that I need in order to
keep my thoughts off of you.
Sometimes I still think about it
because I'm crazy
and unfair-
jumping on a plane, I mean-
to expect you to be waiting for me on the other side.
I think about you all the time. Whether you believe me or not.
Or whatever you choose.
I dwell on you. I haven't stopped.
Like a near death experience.
The only thing that's ever really made me feel alive.
Completely whole.
******* I think about  you all the time.
Forbidden fruit. Something I shouldn't be reaching out for.
I want to dress your wounds.
Take care of you when you fall.
Douse you in antiseptic
wrap your bandages
and seal each cut with a kiss.
I haven't stopped thinking about you at all.
There is something about the way your heart makes my heart flutter.
And the way your soul speaks beautiful perfect poetry to mine.
I'd also be a liar if I said I didn't think about staring into your eyes, or the way you smell like lilacs and honey, or the peaches and cream of your skin.
My favorite dessert.
Something that I indulge in.
I want to taste you.
Every last drop.
Warm saltwater
lemon juice,
birthday cake
life giving nectar.
I've held my lips against a rose petal,
unconsciously,
wishing it were you.
Dying for the real thing.
I miss your voice. A sweet song.
Deep lulliby.
The most humbling thing I've ever heard.
Thunder
the roar of the ocean
harsh winds
butterfly wings
bubbling brooks
gentle rains.
Perfection.
I long for you with my whole being,
and whether it means anything to you or not,
I still thought that you should know.

have you ever had your guts ripped out.. freom a few simple words?
or litsening to a song and your whole body runs cold...
have you ever had that moment in life you just stop?
have you ever felt yourself collapse, your tears running red, your blood running cold, and free?
sometimes you just get tired and weak, you wanna give up. but you gotta feel that inner sreangth.. no matter how bad you wanna jsut stop and collapse.
have you ever hand that nihtmare that your all alone ad everyone has abandoned ou... where your doors are shut, the hall is longer then youve run,
have you ever had someone jsut rip your guts out and let the hang around your neck till the last breth is a sorry for the mess you lived.
have you ever had that break down wehre your falling and no ones there to pick you up, they are holdingoyu down, inthat black mack covering they one true love of death.
my dear you are all I dreamed about for long then I lived... I am the borne of love... fallen from the sky, and that is all I do.. it fall.. everyhting I tried jsut fell and dropped fron under me.
no one can beat me.. yet Im in this **** hole of my years...
behind this smile ws the knowlage that everything is going to be okay and ehres this cold hard fact that this **** smile wants to cry everything to death
behind this smile, this fake mask with the tear stained eyes, I am not as happy as I play it to be, everythign crumbled into a million peiced, half them got fixed and it all seemed to be okay but its all too fast and this little baby is motherless. and this little babys daddys the soldier that freed the pain of the world.
hush little baby dont you cry everythings gonna be alright...
this little lulliby for your life.. go to sleep little baby everythigns gonna me alright.

Her hands melted right into mine
The perfect fit, one of a kind
I was gifted the words in which to speak
The flavored sentences to make her weak
Too perfect to exist, God had made her
Lust had consumed me, Satan her sender
But lust had to be my least worry
When my heart departed in a hurry
It leaped right into her sweet soft eyes
Without any warrant or comprimise
When the hell will I come to realize
My heart wishes for my own demise
But yet another chance I give, to my own
Surprise

Sirène*

She sat upright upon a rock in the middle of the sea. Her skin, pale and wet, with curves down her torso; her bare spine arched. A tail made up of carefully constructed scales that radiated the glare of sunlight. Her chest rose and fell with each intake of breath. ******* uncovered, out in the open air. She turned her head toward a near by sailor's ship. Her lips bowed into a crooked smile as she opened her mouth, words dripped like her golden locks. She began to sing a beautiful Greek song taught by her sisters. Her muse is the gift of song, a lulliby to those who pass by. She sang the last verse and the men were lead to drowning graves that lay under the ocean's surface.
*--amm