i don't even know what to say
you never think something like this will happen to you
you hear the stories and think
"oh, ****. i hope i never have to go through that."
you think how horrible it would be
maybe you think too much about it and cry
then you forget about it all
until its brought up again
but you never really think
it will happen to you

six six six is the devils number
cancer is a six letter word
and i can't help but think of how fitting that is
for a disease where your own body kills you
i've loved you for three years
three plus six is nine
and you have nine months left
a pregnancy lasts nine months
so i keep hoping that maybe reincarnation isn't *******
and when you pass away
you wake up as a baby
so that i don't have to live in a world where i am surrounded by souls
but not a single one is yours

and in case that doesn't work
i've been praying to God
almost every day
that you find him somehow
because if i mess up somewhere in my life
and end up in hell
i'd rather look up from the flames
and see you happy
than watch from above in paradise
as you burn
and i think if i had to
i would crawl into hell for the next nine months
bathe in flames and drown in the wailing of lost souls and demons
if it meant you would somehow beat this

i wish i could scream loud enough
to shake every last tumor out of your body
loud enough to wake up God
and ask him if he's really listening
because i feel so hopeless
and i'm beginning to doubt everything
i thought i believed in
because how could a God
who is supposed to want the best for me
take you away?
let you cough up your life
until your lungs are dried up
and you can't tell me you love me anymore
and even if you don't mean it
at least pretend
kind of like that ron pope song

when you're gone
i'll never hear a piano the same way again
you will be in every note
in every vibration
in every key touched so delicately
and deliberately
i will hear you in every beatles song
see you in every flower
i will watch every video as to not forget
the sound of your voice
the way you grin
i am terrified of you fading
because that is the saddest part of every death
you do not die when you pass
you live on in the people who loved you
until they no longer live
or until they forget
i will not forget
i will not forget
i will not forget
i will not forget
i will live until i am nothing but dust
and my last words will be your name
so you will live even after i die
in the wind
in the trees
in the flowers you always compared yourself to
i will get your art tattooed on my skin
so that when someone asks why i got it
i will tell them all about you
and the love for you
that will always be in my veins
you will always matter
you will always be my light
you will never fade
i will always love you
i will never forget
i will never forget
i will never forget

kiss me
until i forget
how my own lips feel

most everyone knows
the stories
that all these
Disney-fied
and
Pixar-ized
movies are based on
are much more gruesome
than their animated versions
if you don't already know
i dare you
to skim through the originals

many of these stories
that are animated
bring in a prince charming
(which is pretty much as annoying as the manic pixie dream girl trope)
they show you
that love is someone sweeping you
off of your feet
and carrying you forever
never letting you fall
now
brace yourself if you don't take the truth easily
this is a lie

love is boxed up all pretty
perfect pink wrapping paper
covered in little hearts
with a big sparkling
pink bow
but this is artificial

your prince
or princess
or whatever else
will drop you
probably face first
onto your glass shoe
but if they love you
they will always pick out the shards
and kiss every wound
and i like it more this way

i know that you've dropped me
kicked my ribs
knocked my head
against a brick wall
but i know you'll always
always
fix it the best you can
(and thank you
for not hating me
when i bang you up too)

fairy tales aren't real
but i know that you're my fairy boy
and as long as i believe
i know you'll stick around

please understand
that there are broken parts of me
that i can't fix
and the more i fumble with them
the more they crumble
and maybe that's my fault
because my hands shake
and i'm the farthest from gentle
i promise i'm working on my technique

i don't try to smother
it just comes naturally to me
like breathing
even if you say the right things
i'll still struggle
just like if you were to wrap your hands
around my throat
i would still try to breathe
you can talk about whatever you want
i'll hang my head and listen

you know that thing i do?
the one we talk about a lot?
i probably do it because i don't know what to say
or i don't want to say the wrong thing
or i think the conversation is over
but i should probably pay more attention to your words
instead of my own

i either talk too much
or not enough
and my poems are always too long
and never make much sense
just like my thoughts
and to me
it's like trying to untie a jumble of knots
by just cutting them
like the fates snipping threads

i apologize too much
i feel guilty for things i never did
or things that aren't a big deal
and i've tried
so very hard in this poem
to not apologize

i'm sorry

don't say you love me
it hurts when you lie

you might always have yourself convinced that things are better this way.
and for all we know, they could be.
but i know for a fact that you were scared.
and to this day, your hands still shake
at the thought of your foundation being ripped away.
so you play it safe.
but this this false comfort is ******* you dry
and you refuse to admit it to yourself,
blinding yourself to the faults in your foundation.

the leeches on your skin steal your blood,
replacing it with poisoned obedience.
how can you call that love,
when your dreams are deemed as childish aspirations?

love is not written with an asterisk.
limitations
are
invalid.

i won't forget that night
or the taste
or the feeling.
and the warmth of your kiss
in the cold, still air.
as smoke swirled behind us
and moved towards the sky,
the rest came crashing down.

it's way too easy to get used to being unhappy.
to get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

with a soul like rotting wood.
and a heart like an empty home.