sing a song for your lover
of honeyed milk and seabird cries.
say a prayer for your lover
and hope to god she’ll listen.

burn for your lover
in the fires of your own joy.
drown for your lover
in the waters of your own misery.

dance for your lover
til your bones shatter and your lips split.
bow for your lover
til your hips give out and the roses die.

you love like spiralling souls:
around and around again.

I.
you found a light out by the road.
you named it for a prayer.

II.
you ask me, can you keep a secret?
i’ve been thinking, you say, i’ve been thinking
it’s about time we committed ritual suicide.
and i can keep a secret so i don’t say a thing.

III.
we’ve been collecting roadkill for as long as we can remember.

IV.
look at this, i murmur, look at all the blood.
you’re a mess. you’re a ****** mess.
where are my teeth? you ask through desperate tears.
my pearly whites! my fangs! where are they?
where did you put them?

V.
our lungs full of smoke, you lay by my side.
there’s a fire, i say quietly. come on. time to go.
but you won’t move.

VI.
rosaries of milk around your eyes.
i could have saved you.

found: parts of you that are unpretty.
broken ***** fingernails.
sticky substance, underside of wrist.
something broken, something blue.
found: god, in pieces.
trembling for the sweetness of it all.
trembling for herself.

found: your saviour, all black and blue.
all dust and wind.
all “everything i’ve ever dreamed of.”
material of matinees.

found: you, you, you.
your entirety, your serious.
something bitter and beautiful.
something like you.

i am hallowed and hollow.
a divine being with
something to **** for.

trapped in a flesh cage
i am wild and furious
desperate to be freed.
desperate to be
        violent.

lightning struck me in my
angel childhood
left me with shattered wings
and electric human blood.
i am something in between.

i wish i could meet my match.
i wish i could fight him.
i wish i could win.

i am made of heaven and stardust.
of flesh and bone.
i am made of something inorgnanic,
something untouchable.
if you touch me,
you
will
burn.

i’m part human, part crime scene.
once you were finished with me, i was mincemeat.
something only fit for dogs.

i could **** you in your sleep for what you did to me.
god knows i’ve planned it out.
dear god, here’s how i would **** him:
a knife to the throat first, then
open up his chest and stuff a baby doll inside.
mercy is not for girls like me.

darling when you touched me it felt as easy as breathing
(while i was drowning)

i was a child who wanted to play at love.
you were a man who wanted to play at violence.
somehow, i thought we were the same.

did you ever love anyone else the same way you loved me;
all hands for taking and ribs for breaking?
or was i something special to you?

was i a fresh flower waiting to be dissected petal by petal?
she loves me. she loves me not.
she loves me.

i remember the stories you told me.
the songs you sang to me.
if i remember those, i will forget
the violent colours with which you painted me.

i remember you.
too much.
every man with black hair and blue eyes looks like you.
every girl with black eyes and blue lips looks like me.

take that mirror off the wall and show me my face.
pale as oleander. paler for remembering.
and remember something.

remember, i am not the child i once was.
remember, i am an adult now.
remember: i am no longer yours for the taking
  i am no longer yours for the breaking.

and i remember asking him,
angus, love, do you have to throw stones?
why not flowers? why not cotton wool?
and he replied as such:

thomas, you keep walking under ladders.
you never throw that salt.
how do you expect me to react?

this is the end of all things,
where i’m picking my teeth for traces of you
and the light goes out in the middle of the night.

here is an alternate history:
your hands, but with
“the end of the world”
written on them.

because this was the real apocalypse,
your bruises implanted in my skin
the way they spelled “goodbye.”
take care, take care
you won’t be seeing me again.

but we were just swollen children,
you’re thinking,
we were just playing with blood like every child does.
and you’re right.
i was a human canvas and you were
painting my childhood onto me.
you never did anything any other boy wouldn’t do.

so bring me my ending world
in hands split and shaking.
so tell me i’m unlovely one last time.
you know i’ll believe each word you say.

tell me something.
what colour were my lips by the time we were through?
how deep a hole did you choose for me
that i could finally fit into once i was all carved up?
what kind of child was i?
tell me something.
what was so wrong with me
that you had to keep me?

letter to myself:
are you still what i want you to be?

sift through names like dirt for gold.
shift through gods like a true sinner.
there’s nothing left for us to believe in.

letter to myself:
are you everything i ever dreamed of?

thought process of a child in pain.
everything an attack.
no trust. no trust. all love and fear.

letter to myself:
are you dead yet? why not?

there is nothing kind
about you.
nothing sweet about
your blood tooth.
how fortunate i would have been
had i known
just how bitter you’d taste.

worth her weight in gold.
lucky lucky.
better dress her up nicely.

its coldness defeats her;
she crashes like a star.

great potential in her feet
how they weep and harden
how they tear the land apart.

the singer sees her as inspiration
not as a human, but as something
lesser than.

identify her as something wondrous.
but that would be lying.
identify her as something human.
but that would be lying, too.

see something that shines in her.
bend it. break it.
shift her into something
unrecognisable.

you will be happy soon.

you’re *****. you’re filthy.
come and i’ll show you how to be clean.

deep down inside you’re rotten.
you’re ridden with maggots.
you’re infested, hideous.
come and i’ll fix you, come and i’ll love you.

let me guide you here,
and in exchange,
i’ll let you keep your skin.
come and i’ll show you how to be good.

what you need is a change of pace.
something to live for.
come and i’ll seek you, come and i’ll find you.

you’re covered in soil.
you’ve been digging your grave with your own **** hands.
come and i’ll show you how to be clean.

what i wouldn’t give for another chance to say
“you made me sick.”
darling when you touched me it felt like burning.
not in the same way that a lit match feels against your face
more like the way your stomach feels after you haven’t eaten for three days.
that’s what it felt like. an empty stomach.

and you can’t say you didn’t teach me that starving and loving are the same thing.
they both hurt. they both stretch out.
they both **** you by the end of it.

honey when the end hit us,
i didn’t want you to go. i wanted to be full of something, that’s all.
i was full of you.
i needed you like lungs in smoke:
too much, too much.

what you needed was an apology.
what you got was me.

darling what i wouldn’t give for another chance to say
   “you made me sick. you made me sick
        and i loved you for it.”

i want away from the body.
i want out of the flesh.
how lovely it will be to know
that when i am separated,
i will not come back together.

i am not part of this vessel anymore.
i refuse the body my spirit.
i refuse the body my joy.
i refuse the body my willingness to live.

the organs are shutting down
and i won’t do anything about it.
the body is rotting
and i couldn’t care less.

my name has lost its meaning by now.
long ago did it fade away.
and did you know,
i let it go?
it was the only thing that made sense.
i needed something to run from.

take this and put it on your shelf:
fruit was not nearly as sweet to eat
as you were.

your lips turn gunmetal grey
when my hands are at your throat
and my teeth are at your mouth.
your eyes are blue turning green turning red.

it’s very cold where you are
and where are you, when you’re not near me?
you’re going to have to pay the price
for wandering away from me.

i’m saving you, don’t you see?
saving you for when i’m hungry.
saving you for when you’re ripe.

see, here’s the thing.
your heart was just made to be eaten.
it’s not my fault you’re
so
delectable.

i love you like
  the sea loves the land:
  far too little,
  much too late.