You Buy Me A SodaYou've got the friction in your shoulder blades to start a forest fire,and a lot of things can be divine sometimes."Get off your skin," she said. "You never liked coffee anyway."
Is it like today?Pulling out the kind of nature that only your ankles can touch,you guess God's name and tell me how similar we look without any skin."Hush, darling," you said. "We don't have to share the same universe today."
We are far too young and clever.I am of other suns than you,and in the light all I can see are your shadows. He asks, "What's gotten into you lately?"and she says, "Obviously not you."
The face you make is priceless.I've got wrists like empty pockets,and a spine I made out of your weekly pay.You crack open my bones, and scour for the loose change.
Swallow My AstronomyHe had a black hole for a mouth,and eyes like the dying stars that I would never collide with."Speak me the universe," I told him.He laughed, and swallowed my galaxy.
Cheap Talk"My body is a language," she said. "Can't you read?"
I'm not listening anyhow.Make them believe thatAll the people in the world areSomething beautifulThat only you and I canUnderstand when we close our eyes andRun so far away with our thoughts like aBuzz in the back of our brains becauseAnatomy is something that we still haven'tThought too much aboutIn the dark behind our eyelids that willOnly visit us whenNo one else is around.
Soy Sauce for the Closed MindYou've got hips like an avalanche,and a body made of fortune cookie philosophy.She says, "Take your head off when you're talking to me. inbedinbedinbed."
I won't tell anyone.Mouths made of masturbation, and eyes like dying stars,you aim for something short of profanity.
JudgmentCapricious, erratic creatures,You observe the likeness of unknown features,Condemning, curving your mouth with disdainFor the decorum of oneself shall obey your malicious reign.The abomination you painted in your narrow mind,Was no more than an eccentric brother yet to findUtter compliance you seek,Yet of vain dejection you only reek.The enmity that guides your every lineIs but poison you gulped instead of light so divine.Depart from the ignorance that compels you,Underneath the deception lies all that is true.
DarknessThe disease came in the form of quiet, loving destruction.It pulled me out to sea,Waves crashing in on me from all directions.It planted lilies in my throat.Until I choked onRoses and chrysanthemums.It made my mind my own personal head stone.Nothing but polluted wordsThe flowers made it sound so playful and innocent when I said,'I am better off dead.'Invisible.You rage wars.Tugging at the skin underneath my eyes.Silent cries.Tortured lullabiesOf a once friendly stranger's goodbyes.Quiet and loving.You made me fall in love with the velvet of your darkness.The way you cloaked yourself around me.You gave me the piercing control of a knife.You whispered,'Death isn't a disease. It is a solution.'A solution to the dark abyss.LonelinessNags at the back of my skull.It makes my eyes dull.The darkness loved my light.It loved it so much,It was a parasite.It stole my sun.Now I am just a super novaCollapsing in on itself,Until I, myself, become the black hole.
A Letter to My Best FriendA letter to my best friend, for when he is feeling badlyWhen your sunny skies turn to thunder clouds.When you can't hear your own thoughtsOver rumbling drum rolls of thunder.I will be the umbrella to protect youFrom the freezing rain.I'd set my bones aflameWatch them spark and burn.I'd turn my soul into a Bon fireJust to keep you warm.I'd catch fire flies like stars.I would keep them in a jarAnd give them to you.Because you light up the dark of the night sky.When I am feeling blueYou are the one that helps me get throughThe murk of my lonely thoughts.And sometimes, I don't feel like you see yourself clearly.I wish you could see youThe way I do.I see you in the starsYou talk about them so fondly.Every constellation reminds me of you.I wonder if you are made of cosmos.Such chaotic, pure energy,I see you in the rain.You are coldBut inviting.I'd dance to the music of your soft,Pitter- patter melody.I see you in the air I breathe.Because you are the thingThat
Fairy Tale GirlFairy tale little girl.She wears a crown upon her head,And befriends the monsters under her bed.She sings songs to birds.But no one ever heardHer cries when the castle walls came tumbling down.Real world little girl.She weaves herself a fantasy inside her mind.Hoping to findThe same peace from when she was young.And she's like water colors.So soft, and easily washed away.She is the soft blues in the morning of a new day.I found her hiding within her tower.Far above the real world below.She is so broken but never lets it show,So desperate for some fairy tale ending.She asked me quietly one day,'Do you think the world will ever be like my story books?'I thought for a moment before replying,'In order to survive there are some bad things you have to overlook.''The world is grey.'I heard her say one day.As if accepting the odd mixture of good and bad.Her voice sounded happy and sad,All at once.As she ripped away the last pageIn her story book.
Your feelings are validI once readthat a teaspoon of matterfrom a black holecan weigh thousands of tonsupon Earthso think about thatwhen someone tells youyour problem is no big dealforit may not looklike you have the weight of the worldupon your shoulders but it sure can feel like it.
The Rogue FactorRise, fall, get up, stumble and runit's getting harder to catch a breathin this cloud of scorching lies you've shoved me in. Stop right there, I am not following you againyou, the one who held a scythe to my throat,had only brought me closer to a death I didn't cry for. It's a price I've paid for having faith inyou, the one with blooming roses and stinging, poisonous thorns.Whose dreams was I chasing?Were they yours, mine orwere they the illusions of a distant fall?Heaven and Hell crossed at your feetbut you took the wrong turn and blindly led the way,straight into a fire that welcomed me with open arms.Doubt someone like you can atone, you, the one with a habit of tearing souls.Yet here I stand, and fightagainst you, once and for all.I grew tired of letting you take control. I found a strength in a goal you can't claim,my life and my work are no longer yours.Hope shines bright you monster, I'm not going to be a victim,I'm not holdi
The GardeniasI told you I had wildflowers growing in my veinsand you thought it was quaint,so when I took shears to my jugular -you wouldn’t help me cut them out.You thought I’d be opheliacif they bloomed, splashing whiteinto my already paling wrists.Maybe you thought the perfume would purify meand being a tragic heroinewould be better than just being tragic.Their roots choked out my heart and the landslides slipped soil in to my blood stream soas I died,drowning in the after-effects of Pretty,all I could hearwas you telling me that you lovedthat I had Gardenias in my eyes.
Eighteen Years OldTwenty years old, and unhappy with the world.Twenty years old and threatening teenage girls.Twenty years old and unsure of who you are.Twenty years old and hiding behind keysand a space bar.At twenty years old, your anger gets the best of you,at twenty years old, I'd hate to be you.At eighteen years old, I feel sorry for you,despite the amount of agony you've put methrough.Because the one who is the giver of your lifecriticizes your appearance and your size.Despite talking, and the gawking,and all in between,I know you're just a poor man suffering.But you're twenty years old, and you shouldknow better.You're twenty years old,and you'll never understand this letter.Fifteen years old, with the mind of a toddler.Fifteen years old, and though I'm writing this,I shouldn't even bother.Fifteen years old, and you're already a professional stalker,you're toxic, your disgusting, and a suicide blogger.Fifteen years old, and life is a game, you can ruin people,play with pe
uncertainty is a meal i can always finish.i.she says she thinks i wear my heart well,and i tell her it's only because i don't wear it at allii.sometimes i think my veins are breaking because they get so thin and purpleand sometimes they are blue as the sky we live under,bulging beneath the unbroken skin of my wrists like they are straining to touchthe oxygen that writhes above them, so close to contact butnever able to truly meet.iii.we stay together, not through thick,only through thiniv.my friend confessed her sexuality to usmaybe three months back,but i still can't seem to find my own "label"and it is sad because i want to be able to label myself in aworld where we are shamed by our namesv.i live in a city where the people care so little for each otherthat each passing day i am painfully remindedof how much i can hateand not enough of how much i can love
We never stop being adjacent.We shiver and shake,and you have nothing else that isn't mine.