I’m drowning in his veins. His heart, twice the size it should be, pumping tainted blood through the labyrinth buried beneath his skin. I take refuge in his lungs. And it’s then that I see what’s creating the cataract of sludge. Great piles of charred mess building across the walls. Too hot, poisoned air launched at me and him with kamikaze apathy and sniper-like precision. And all the while he spits the scorched oxygen to his heart. Cranking out more pollution than his body can dispose of. And me with my gas mask, hell-bent on tearing down the filth. I shovel it out like a chimney sweep in a stack that’s still on fire. Until my energy is spent. Until the tears stream hot and sulfurous, only adding to the contaminated blood. And I hope that if I stay here, a living thing inside of him, that the air that falls in on me will somehow be clean. That I can breathe life back into him. But the sky above me is filled with explosions of darkness. And the bombs only continue to fall.
i'm so sorry.
those are the words i want to say to you
if only i had the guts to speak to you as i did when i thought you thought nothing of me and that's the way it would always be
and that was fine with me.
i'd tell you how much i miss just talking and i'd tell you how much i miss your silence and i'd tell you how much i miss your presence and i'd tell you how much i miss your jokes and i'd tell you how much i miss your music and i'd tell you how much i miss you
and i'd tell you how much i miss not writing in run-on sentences.
god, this is so stupid.
i'd tell you how much i find this whole situation ridiculous and i just want to talk.
why am i so stupid?
why am i so naive?
to actually believe this has anything to do with me.
you've just grown up.
and so have i.
i'd tell you how tired i am of writing about your memory just to remember the sound of your voice.
i'd tell you...
i'd tell you i'm not good with words- though that's nothing new.
i'd tell you how much i hate using ellipsis- and yet i just did- and ask you if you do, too.
you'd probably say you don't have an opinion on it and it's stupid to bring it up.
stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid
i'd tell you how all of the late night thoughts i've had of you are pointless and pathetic and i'm sure you'd think so, too.
i'd tell you my words are spastic and no where near good poetry, but they're about you so i can't bring myself to delete them.
i'd tell you this whole piece is worthless, but the words don't seem to stop.
i'd tell you i'm trying to use as many degrading adjectives as i can, but it just doesn't seem to sum it all up.
let's start from the beginning:
i'm so sorry.
the sun shines through the petals and they look like a bouquet of flames
I've read that
the more aggressive
as well as passion
when given to another
it's a dare to love me,
and I do;
I dare you to fall
into my brown eyes
pools of sorrow
hidden by the fire
of one who is restless
wants to give up;
curl up and just
Can I be
But nobody knows
what you want
unless you make it
known to the universe