It's Been 5 Years And I Still Remember Your Birthday. I Don't Think I'll Ever Forget It To Be Honest.

i bite back a smile when you point out that the eye looks weird. i like your shading you say, but the colors could've been darker. a fish in water for the first time, i breathe in the relief. i'm so sick of it, i wish i could tell you, i'm so sick of the mindless hearts and soulless compliments. you're so brilliants echo and bounce around this shell of a frame that was once gifted. there's nothing left yet the red shiny wrapper's still on. not for you maybe, is it too soon to know? call me out, call me out, tell me when i'm being an asshole and i'd smile harder honestly. you offer a repose to this empty gallery.

How could you possibly miss someone who isn't corporeal, without shape, without form? I miss him as the sun rises and as it sets. His hands I imagine, hold my face, our ghostly figures fitting together in a perfectly unearthly embrace. He's stunning, he's my darling, more than the boy walking me home ever could be, yet I've never seen his face. He might just be the best my mind has ever made, dethroning the poetry, the equations, the conclusions, my most brilliant manifestation. so sweet, so mature, he always seems to know what I feel before I tell him my thoughts. He knows me better than I know me, and every night we talk, the weights lift, the fog clears and I sleep hugging his shape. I know, I know, if I ever sought to hold his hand, I'll come away with ash and smoke, yet not without knowing our fingers would mold so perfectly together. I search for his face in every boy I meet, he is my voyeur in an empty gallery, he sits behind my eyes and I only hope I don't fall asleep before I meet him tonight. I know not your name, your face, your voice, the color of your hair, your touch. but I do know your gait, your grammar, the food you make, your sigh, your feel, your embrace and know, you're everything I could possibly want. what else is there to falling in love?

Head tilted back with laughter

I would make this my forever

still, i remind myself

nothing lasts forever

and about ten years later,

glow of streetlights

on my lashes

all I feel is longing

we are but a gentle sin, while you hold the gun against my mouth, while we play dolls in our sandhouse, does the burn remind you of me? sickly red hazes overcoming your greatest tragedies, I'd let you blow my brains out, but I'd also burn your skin right off yes we talk till dawn cracks over the kitchen counter, but it would remind you of a puppeteer and me of skinner's theories.

cut my hand on an angel’s halo, he said he’d never seen anybody bleed, what happens when the blood’s just red and not a wholesome tragedy? thought I couldn’t stand your final flight, reliving every sigh while crossing the road, till I wasn’t supposed to be there anymore. guarded my heart with his, but what happens when the knife doesn’t exist? and what happens when the ribs pierce the heart? so crushing of a hug, left only to red seeping internally, while fathoming the countless leaving, and bruised knees from hoping for the heaven you met me in.

As I flick through my camera roll, isn't it strange how everything is out of focus but you? How the blood you spilt seems brighter than the blood I shed?

Yes, your heart stopped at 5:05 am. You still have so much time left across the world. Frida kahlo painted flowers so that they would not die, my darling muse, how can I ever accept that you're gone?

I want to be fluent in french so bad.

You’d think if time was drugged, futile seconds would wander till ether stilled hearts choking through echoing forever the roads we never walked remain trapped in the mirror house we find ourselves in, which is better, delirious visions against the never becoming futures? or bashing our heads fruitlessly against foreign reflections? screaming our voices hoarse, till the counted seconds come back home.

Is life always struggling out of you? And the more you laugh, slowly, bit by bit, life echoes out of you, like the sound bubbling from your throat? And eventually it runs out, but I can't seem to find that sad, as you fade brightly, just like a dying comet in the night sky, short-lived but beautiful nonetheless.