i am worth it.and if this feelingonly lasts for tonight,i'll swallow the night;rearrange the starsto map theletters of my namebecause i am worthevery second it takesto let the world know i'm alive
heartbreaker.and so she broke his heart afterhe stopped buildingglass houses of trust for her to s h a t t e r
make forevers in memories.we are not foreversdancing on the borderlinesof infinty we are temporary but our memoriesare everlasting so do not hesitate to create them
blame it on the lateness of the hour.I.my room is engulfed in shadows and they dance c i r c l e s around my deteriorating mind you call memy phone buzzes and lights up you make the only starin this artificial night skyII. one, two, three-- no.that last one was two, this one is three or maybe it's one you come & make the count go down to zero, but you can't hide the pills forever my sick mind needs the medicineIII. you whisper shakespeare into the crevice of my collarboneand tell me that we'll be infinite,starcrossed lovers but your lips are onlytattooing kisses that say
three stages before an eclipse.i.my tears are scalding, bringing back old wounds from the dead& letting them paradedown my wrists[ and my thighsand my stomach ]like my pain is somefestival the demonsin my mind canall enjoyii.my muse is sick& i'm beginning to seestars for what they really are: burningballs of gas that i will never reachiii.never before have bridgesscreamed at me so loud"you should really try to fly"& if i stand close enoughi can almost hearthe countdown burningthough my ears 321
it isn't the cigarettes.maybe my lungs are black becausei've only everinhaled the second-hand smokeof your lies
Acrophobic it's not that i'm afraid of falling. i'm afraid that i may jump.
judging books by (shitty) covers.my cover has beentorn,ripped, & replacedso that i could fool you into thinkingthat there are onlyhealthy thoughtsinside thesecrisp pagesbut even thoughi did a shit job& you can still seethe frayed edges ofbad nights and bad daysand bad weeks peekingthrough my translucent skin,you glance at meand think "yeah, she's okay"
Fabricating Wingschasing firefliesof thoughtsi find myselfsittingon the floorsurrounded byquestion marksand scraps ofcoloured papertryingto fabricatewings out ofmemoriesthat will fly meto that placecalled never-landshining in theevening sky.
this is me giving you upsomewhere in my heart you came in like a hurricaneshoving everything that stood in your path to the side and i let you becausemaybe my friends were just clogging my arteries andmaybe the things i wanted were just going to badden my blood.the fire that was within you burned holes into my skinyou were the heat atop the flames that made my vision lack tension and i wasblinded--your hands were so much bigger than mineyou embodied a giant and you crushed me like i was a weedi should have been scared at the fact that you were over a foot taller than me butsomeone told me that if you stare a tiger downthey will submit to youunfortunately, you did not submit to me, but i gave way of my own control and threw caution to the windi think of you as analogies in my mind because when i see thingsthey remind me of you or the way you used to hold mei see stones sitting in the creek behind my best friend's house and think of your eyes andi sing songs that never applied to me as much as th
lunarWhen I was six years old,I decided I wanted toeat the moon.Mom with her pink frayed bathrobeand tired eyestold me to go to sleep,that I had school in the morning.Dad with his stacks of booksand prickly beardtold me that it was impossible,the moon was too distant.Well, guess what?I ate the fuckin moon.And it was delicious.Bitches can't tell me shit,I'll eat the fuckin moon if I want to.
now i see the stars.there was a time when icouldn't catch my breath whenever ithought about you , (crippled lungs and-boy, you hit me like an asteroid,there's a crater on my chest now that I can't ever seem to fill,even withoceans of my tears cried onnights when you couldn't be there to sing me to sleep.thirty two poemless days after you joined the constellations,i walked out into the yard and howled to the empty sky,andfor a moment i was Gaea, rivers running down my cheeks,weighted to the ground andburied in myself, butwhere there is no light there are no shadows, andsometimes, i wonder if i miss me.yes, yes i do.i may not see the moon, but
I think I'm losing where you end and I beginlike a crash victimthat needed one too manysurgical transplants,I've forgottenwhich parts of me are mineand which of them aremere donationsfrom you.
.she saysexplain these thingsto me -i say the silence sort of ticks - my sadnesshas a face, think blue, think black and grey, think sanguinered, the end of may, he had a pulse too strongfor me to take,i killed it, stripped it bare, i carried it rightto it's grave - i say andmy lungs, they feel like frost, they're filled with silverlight and sharpness, rattling pips, a scream - i stayedinside my bed for weeks, i didn't eat, i didn'tdream - i think in fire, flame, volcano,resurrect you, keep your nameinside me like a splinterturning green(i could not bring myself to say yes, but i think you know that)
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:i think you’re beautiful. i haveseen nothing on earth that holds a candleto the ocean you carry inside your body.it spills over your edges sometimes, likea rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-inlines until there is nothing left of you but your naturalcliffs, valleys, and deserts.i like that.i have never met someone who is, somehow,a sea and a storm at the same time.maybe i never will again.maybe you are the only onewho gathers clouds on her foreheadlike a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tidewith her every step.you are beautiful, honestly.you are honest, beautifully.it is in the way you talk, the way you hold iceon your tongue but forget to use it—you always forget to use it, i don’t thinkyou know how.to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smileand how it breaks over me, how it pullsme like a whirlpool down, how it pushes melike a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
[songs of rain]forgiveness in the third chord,like silence or the momentartemis pulls the arrow free,thanks the buck for his sacrifice.lightning in my lungs.saltwater in my lungs.i, storm,will rage & pass on.
AlcoholicYour tux is the colorof a coal miner’s faceafter a long, hard day of work:something you’ve neverhad to experienceYet you talk as thoughyou’re just as worn out;your trivial chit-chatis turning syrupy with every sip,although your sentencesaren’t getting any sweeterAnd you grab another glassof the effervescent liquid,hoping the sea of black will blend together,and it will be dark enoughfor you to fall asleepAnd as you walk tipsily to the bathroom,the overpaid opera singerbelts her last high note- a bit too high;your crystal glass shattersinto a thousand piecesAnd with it, you shatter too.
You Were Born Missing SomethingYour skin is glazed with crystals of frostand your heart's valves are close tofreezing shut tightfrom being devoid of somethingalmost unexplainableThough I am torrents of hail, whirling storms,warm tears streaking, and tornadoes of ragethat flow uncontrollably through my veinsand out of my mouth,every breath near you is warmbecause your words are so coldI am a natural disaster at its finestwith bones twisted in painful anglesand a crooked spineBut you,you were born spineless
swallow the universedecay remembers you --fever breath and ocean-eyed ghosts,secrets that smoke with poison desire.we wake only to drink, to devourthe naked voices of dismantled stars.glass kisses turn into granite lipsand pillars of salt; a haunted embracemelts into the cracks of the universe.
treasureI watched beauty die today.She said, "I've lived too longand now nobody knowswhat I really am."
one night standInspiration kicked me outof bed, threw myclothes-said, I'll call you-and moved onto the next.
.my thoughts want toflee, but there is no fireescape, no guide to theexit of my head, and theyconsider digging a holethere, i feel it, maybe acrack just wide enoughto crawl through, drop arope through the backof my neck and climbdown, prise open theearth - a tremble turnsinto an avalanche, anda snowflake in the flurrywonders am i the same asall the rest? he coughs andsplutters and chokes onit - i wake in the earlymorning, heart lodgedin my throat, that redbird in that chimney, he'sgoing to starve there andi'll be spitting feathers;i won't claw the insideof my neck again fornobody, i'm past that,pick me up by thescruff and drop mewherever you're going -but wait, when lightningstrikes a tree, well isn'tthat love? and when therain pelts the ground,well what about then?when you miss the acheof wounds as they'rehealing, is that it? wellwhen your nose bleeds,that's still love right?cos i've got an entirepack to get through -and what a funnything it is
.we are one and thesame, that old willow andme, we stand tall with thescars that life gave us -with the names of loverscarved deep in our limbs,and old burns from mydads cigarettes
i always was the girl who danced with thunderthey've issueda flash flood warningand i am thinkingabout our legstangled like treeroots beneath thesheets.the screen doordoesn't latch anymoreand the wind istrying to tear itaway and i amlistening to itscream and hearingyou say my name.the roads are wetand treacherous andall i am thinking aboutis you and yourwet lips slippery tongueroadside teeth in myskin and the sky isfalling down aroundme and----all of these warningsare just another metaphorfor you.
We'll count the years on the constellationsshe was a girl who lived on the edge of a calendar,who never knew the date;she worked in days, weather patternswould meet you when the sun looked likeit was being speared by a gothic church spire,when the stars had just begun to dance- people put words in her mouth, saidcarpe diem, living life as if today was the lastbut she knew, somewhere deep in her pendulum heartthat it was because she didn’t want to knowhow long he had been gone for.he was a boy who was born into photo framesmounted on the wall as a trophy;he knew his angles, knew when to smilebut photos can’t capture sound,he learnt the art of silencewatching from the mantel-pieceeyes not quite looking alive- people put words in his mouth, saidhe was a wallflower, a starving artist, deepbut he knew, somewhere deep in his canvas heartthat it was because this was whathe had been taught, this was all he knew.and this girl and this boy collided,taught each other to put words in their own mouths- h
summer stormyou once told memy angerwas a summer stormand that mountainsare not movedby the rain;but if I am to be rain, my darling,I will bring to you my thunder;I will wear my acid smileand I will burnyour shining citiesto the ground.
half-empty.she-devils lend me their smiles;all the other ones i haveare tearing at the seamsall that's left of me isblack ink & blacker bloodmixed with the bittersmell of rubbing alcohol but she still snakes her arms around the nebulae collapsing in my freckled lungs bec