Victorious.

I told myself
when the sun hits the pavement,
you can breathe again.
I said
this time you aren't the
rotten fruit
at the bottom of the box.
This time,
darling
it looks less like you
and more like him.
This time,
this fucking time,
I didn't let us down.

Ago.

Comes through sweet
like bloody roses
but it kicks me
just like a horse,
it pulses violently
through crowds
like a whores' battery
filled toy.
I get just a little bit
worn waiting
when the kill
has already been found,
it's a hell on earth
bloodbath
we roll around in
on the ground.

We both know how
how to paint this
canvas black
a skill which we
just cant ignore.

Unconscious.

Good morning

my intertwining nightmare,
the galloping ruins of a person
I did not become.

Hello
my unfolding calamity,
my lessons unlearned in
dire uncertainty.
I heard the whispers
that you could be coming,
saw the fire in the sky.
I can taste your salty betrayal
sharp on my tongue
and see my face crumbling
away in the mirror.

Crisp.

Looking through all these years,

searching through all the layers.

This feeling, it explodes through me,

and it chases away

and it runs away,

it's infectious

and hopeless

and desperate

and homeless.

Those moments weren't lost on me,

I'm grasping at nothing,

whole pages disappearing

in this cold wind storm.

So long long long ago

without you,

I heard you,

I kissed you,

I felt you.

These are whole letters addressed to me,

with my name in your writing

my laughter in your typing.

Catching myself getting caught in

examples of broken,

the damage

of reckless,

the theory

of cotton.

Mistaken.

You said you were sorry,

like that would keep my legs open.

The more you spoke the less I heard, 

like flattery would pin me to your bed.

I know what I must have looked like, 

such a fucking easy target.
But I'd rather settle out in the cold
than in the confines of your twisted head.

Bite.

Anytime you decide I don't need to hold on so tight,
just let me know,
like a wooden floor, I believe in you.
Lets put our hearts up for sale, scream our lungs out in the desert,
turn these minds into landfill.
While we are still young with fresh blood pulsing through us,
meet me.
I'll run to see you at the fork in the road,
I'll scramble to all of our unspoken truths
to have one more moment,
keep you a little longer,
and feed you a bite of my heart.

Sunken.

There's little more
than nothing
left in this aged head.
I stripped the walls
from white
to wood,
instantly
I hated it.