cover your eyes.i remember i came over to your houseand we watched them fall.we crouched in front of the dimly glowing boxand tried to figure out what we should be feeling while we watched it all unfold in front of us.we knew we were watching people, mothers, brothers, sisters, wives, husbands leave this world.but we just saw smoke and we heard reporters screaching over one another trying to comprehendit while maintaining a professional appearence.but we knew that all humans watching this were trying not to break from the completely overwhelmingflood we were all feeling.i noticed you were crying.you didnt know anyone personally, but your heart was always the biggest and i'm sure you were tryingto make peace with someone up there and wondering why them, and why not someone else.and i know you were never a religious person, despite your upbringing, and in that moment when peoplewere emerging, exhausted, confused and thankful, i knew you never would again. how could any god possiblypick fav
at best.i tired to sum it up in a way that i knew your addled brain could grasp.i'd gotten used to simplifying things for you when you were like this.but from my perspective, this give and take of ours left me feeling like i waschasing that bus that turned up earlier than my brain or the timetable wasready for, and i try and run across the street to reach it. sometimes i do,and i get to rest and breathe. other times i almost reach it, but as my foothits the other side of the road it pulls away and i have to sit there and hopeit comes back around before it gets dark.it was a clumsy way of describing it at best.but i felt right with how much of it was up to somehigher unseen power that most of the time seemed against me.
against this cold.maybe if i had drunken more milk my bones would have been stronger,maybe if i had not read so many magazines i wouldn't have spent all of my senior year tearing myself apart and trying to puke my insecurities out.maybe if i hadnt had spend so many nights out with him,maybe if i had have gone to colorado with you that summer.maybe if i had have picked those fucking secrets out from beneath your teeth,and peeled them from under your tongue.maybe then i would have been able to stop you.maybe then i wouldn't be here.maybe you would.
theres got to be another way.you made me so damn sure if i ever had the chance to burn something more substantial than just some metaphorical bridges.like maybe i could set myself of fire and be reborn or just have a complete re do and try my luck at the draw of life again and hope i get an existence that doesn't make me want to just go extinct or curl up in a ball.or at least one that had some better timing cause i'm sick of finding my way back into your life on days when all you smelllike is death or him (which to me is the same thing) and i always smell failure and utter rejection on myself when i finally make it back to my apartment after shuffling around the city like a lovesick zombie or just a lesser version of whoever i think i would be if you would stop choosing him over me.like last night when he left, you came around and it was like once he leaves your field of vision you forget about him, like hes a god damn doctor who villian. and we talked about pocket relics and how you found the movie stub from
your parents dont need a ghost.i couldn't sleep last nightcause i kept picturing youand then my memory trippedand i remembered the summer we spentcramped in your tour busand how before i opened my eyes completelyyou and himlooked them same.and i felt my heart stopimagining how your parents must feel.and then i stopped againthinking how he must feelevery time he looks in a mirror.
I'd Rather Be DeadYou're always asking me if I had anything worth dying for.I'll pose the opposite to you and ask you this:"Why is it that you find life to be worth living?"Is it so interesting to go through each day feeling anxious?To the point that you feel nauseated enough to collapse.Is it so joyous to spend each night staring at a blank ceiling,Hearing the clock tick on toward morning,And yet you lie awake.Tired, but awake, emotionless, but awake...Do you truly get up each day, facing it with optimism.Or do you look at the news and the state of the world,And genuinely fear for your safety?Now, if it were me that you had asked my dear,I'd tell you quite honestly: That I'd rather be dead.At least I would not have to hear the white lie inside my head.That tomorrow will bring me a 'better' day...But of course, you are welcome to believe that.
Stripping MeYou may take what you want from me,Be it my pride or dignity.You may throw insults at me,And burn the shredded pieces of my sanity.You may belittle me, as much as you want,If only to make your meager life worth living.---But even if you do all that...---No one will protect you when I pull you into the dark.No one will try to search for you, as my leather ropes tie you down.No one will hear your screams as metallic screws drive into your face,Etching an eternal smile, since you'll never leave this place..."Now then, my dear sweet James, shall we play our favourite game?"
You are someone's reason to liveShe had skin like a cactus-believing shecould only hurtanyone who gottoo close,forgetting thatinside,she held whatpeople neededmost.
collisionsi.it is dark, unfamiliar,but your fingers seek out his,and you know thenthat you are at homein his harmonyeven if justfor now.ii.hold him;he's incendiary, sure.a veritable (volatile)molotov cocktail ofnot-okaywatch as he emerges,ashen-limbed from a cocoon of youto entwine with the threadsthat hold you sane.iii.smoldering indolentcoal-flicker eyelidswant nothing more thanto hiss and steam;than to coolin your stillnessiv.redolent of broken-record risk-taking chances untilthere's nothing leftbut scratches and glitches in the wordworki mean woodwork,i mean, skin.but oh god, he loves youjust like this,like that,this way.v.this is a choice:you may destroy him,extinguish his flamesand half-bury him inthe ashy remnantsof his own conflagration but it's an impotent powerthat is granted, not taken.
i'd haunt you if you'd like.my hands are paralyzed and you're waiting for me to touch your face,but that doesn't really matter because i'd rather touch your souland if you close your eyes long enough i'll read you poetry as we lay atop the monkeybarsin this old and rusted parkyou can pretend to know the constellations and point them out to me and i'll tell you they're all beautiful, but nothing compared to youif i'm lucky you'll blush and laugh at me,tell me i say the dumbest things but deep down it'll register in your soul just how much i love youand i know they say you can only save yourself, but darling i swear if you'll just have the slightest bit of faith i'll save the fuck out of you or i'll destroy myself trying,because i honestly can't think of any other purpose for my lifeor what smidge of it i've been able to hold on to.
Hopeful HeartThe sky is pitch blackAnd so is my heartAfter all the painI went throughAfter all the effortFor a lost causeSo I look upLooking for a starA ray of lightTo guide me awayAway from this darkness inside my heart
internal.sometimes i feel like your skeletal systemi wrap around your translucent skinand protect the soft pinkflesh within,i guard your heartand your lungsand keep you upright.you don't see me,but without me you'dbe nothing.