I was high on LSD when we first met.
And there is nothing poetic in that statement.
Just honesty.
And you can take that for what it is
but I want you to know this
because even when my skin
was crawling-
you made me feel comfortable.

You were an abrupt kind of bliss
and I could not have been happier
with the light I had suddenly found.

You guessed I was a cancer
and I did not answer
because you saw in my eyes
you knew you were right.

And it was in that moment
I felt a connection
with the kind of
complexion
that was sure to

leave me every night.

I guess it was foolish of me to think
you would stay.

High hopes
and low expectations
is what they say
but I just cannot accept that
these days.

It is getting hard to hold my head up
when all I do is think of you
but my friends keep telling me
that I will make it through
even though

you don't miss me anymore.

My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.

I could never tell you
exactly what's going on inside my head,
so I'll write instead.
Drown my thoughts in paper & lead.
Keep my hands alive,
and my expression dead.

i cannot make my anger beautiful.
or my pain sweet.
i refuse to make this easier to swallow.
i am not yours  to consume.