cheap whisky.instead of exchanging numberswe exchanged horror storiesand compared ourdrunken scars[yours down your sidemine up my arms]when i looked at you from a distancei thought maybe you couldcut me open withyour cheekbones[but you never wereso merciful]and your eyes were as emptyas the bottles that weclutched to gain the silverthat traced our bodies[but the rest of you was fullof lossandloveandhateandblackness]you said that there was lead in my veinsand you brought it to the boiland i sat there burningwith bugs being drawn to me[my destruction was more beautifulthan i ever could be]i remember you hit me onceand it stung like cheap vodkai told you i loved youand slept for a year[i wasn't going to be enough tonightand you weren't interested.]i know now that god is deadi tired praying silentlyi tried screaming ituntil the sun rose again[nothing happened.he wasn't listening]when i wokethey were all around mecramming their apologiesdown my throat[i knew then
colour-blind.he was like summerno one ever noticed himwhile he was two stepsbehind thembut once he was goneeveryone suddenlymissed his presence.the oval was soakedand the clouds wouldn'tstop crying for weeksthe umpires told allthe jocks to go awayand get a heartbecause he was goneand he wasn't coming backi stumbled over to hisglowing white head stoneand left him flowersthat i think were bluebut i couldn't quitesquint enough to seeeverything is varying shadesof shadows nowso the sun wouldn'trise again forthree monthsand they called thesethe black daysbecause it was thickand all consumingthere was no lightbecause he was summerand he was gone
not all water means lifeher hair was the kind of brown where you know she was born a blonde. eyes, big and bright, full of wonder, and a ribbon tied in her hair. she was a mystery to everyone; she was a misery to meThey said that the colour of her skin was something that resembled perfection, white porcelain with peach undertones she was something of a doll.And that's why I wondered how she could move breath even be Alive as her oceanic blue eyes looked like theyd already drowned any living soul who'd gotten too close.I started to wish id learned to swim.
keep it ugly.Loving a band with all your heart is something you only understand when it happens to you. On the surface, others can see it as a petty obsession, but they'll just never know the feeling of putting so much faith into a few people on the other side of the world. It's hard to explain it to them, the listening to song after song on repeat, the waits for new albums, the excitement and surreal sensation when you finally see them live. They don't seem to understand why the lyrics booklets give you a sense of comfort, or why you paste photos of them all over your bedroom walls. And they can't understand why one band could matter to you so much. And you think to yourself 'Because they saved my life.' But you say nothing, they wouldn't understand.
Untitledthings she's destroyed this year;two washing machinesfrom the pockets she fills with rockswhen the rains come and she wants to drownthe corners of all her books from flickingbending and shaking edgeswhenever she thinks of youyou stupid boyher first carcrumpled in a ravineand it left a scar on her stomachthat she sometimes can pokeand feel a lump that science can't explainand she thinks it physical sadnessrestingwaitingthe entire box of platesthat her mother gave her for moving outand making it on her ownwell, she almost made itbut something about thembeing under the ground lefther shaking uncontrollablyand the tears slid underneath fingertipsand she lost the gripand didn't notice until she'd ran to phoneand left a trail of her insidesalong the corridor.her heart linesor whatever it is that lets the happiness inthey're sealed shuttight and all she can do isstareat things that don't notice herwhatever it was that connected himand herand let the sparks
seasons passing.i caught you tiptoeing through my fogged up mind in the early hours of thismorning and i wondered why i didn't feel you in the depths of my heartstinging like pin prick, and how come it was still light even though youalways cause the rain to leak down my windows. you were lighter somehow,with summer kissing your skin rather than the gray winter that usuallyhung so heavily from your far too boney anatomy, and your mouth hadre learned to fight gravity and stand upright once more.which made me fight gravity again as well.i'd forgotten that your eyes were the most spectacular shade of sunshine withgreens and blues all swirled together together to make fireworks explode fromyour iris. they'd been bleak and washed out for so long that i'd forgotten howthey made my insides squirm and feel all light and airy. like that instead ofdrowning in them, just maybe i could float on them away to somewhere wonderful and lovely.i'd missed that, not having to avoid your gaze in case i got cau
calamity.the poor boy got a lecture from deaths secretary"deaths busy enough as it is without walk ins""but it was urgent," he stutters."it couldn't wait, it was now or never"he was simply told"take a number, and wait over there with the restwho 'couldn't wait' "
all fell to the groundHe wrote each feeling on the insides of his arms, sinking it into his blood stream. Most days, it would be a list trailing down his arm, each one crossed out with red pen, leading onto the next. On his first day of school the list looked like this.NervousHeavy bootsLongingHopefulContentHungerWanderlustFearBoredom.He liked the way the ink letters would bleed into each other and eventually become illegible, and by that point that's usually how he felt. The red would seep and emphasise the tangle, and it would take a little-too-hot shower to wash it off.[the stain was still inside him though, and the shower didn't even begin to remove that].Some days, the list would be just one feeling written over and over again., thicker and thicker as the feelings deepened and darkened. Like the day that he just called 'the worst day'. There was only one feeling on his arm, and it was written so many times in the same place that he couldn't tell where the broken skin and the red ink separat