And Even Though The Stains From The Bright And Artificial Ice-creams We Had Are Long Gone From My Clothes

Walking through the machines, They’d see blued bones Every place you held me in. Bated breaths from them peeling The suitcase we let gather dust, How come we’re on the same flight, Just in different terminals? The plane which took off before mine, carried the longing with it, And what is your love without the yearning mixed in it? Not the shaking when we landed, Face first in deep so called regret, Ignored the rumbling of shoved voices, What could be better than your heart’s erratic noises, When I pass through the crimes of unforgivable circumstances?

I'm scared you'll be be housed immortal inside my head and there's dread creeping up my spine knowing it's true. How am I supposed to fall out of love with the version of you in my head, the one that still sings when you're not even here to choke it out anymore? I'd really rather you twisted the knife and left me to bleed, atleast i would've run out of blood to paint your name with. No, i think what you did was much worse, had my heart for lunch and then wrapped up my wounds in empty apologies. There's still blood in me that needs to bleed for you, I hate how this turned out, I miss you like pain misses sweet morphine.

When the rocks seem miles away and the shore steeping and breathless, the desire to keep falling and falling overcomes the cause, when the sky flew faster than you, all the light was just blinding, never golden and when you lay by the riverbank, scarlet red seeping into clear eyes, scarlet red from where carnations grew, only does your breath turn tragic, turning poetic, when love struck jewels emerge, careful fingers touch the rubies, and this is all the power I have, to only lament words I cannot fathom and trace the fall over and over till only golden ichor flows anew.

Does he love the stars?

Maybe he'll love you like he loves the stars. Maybe he tells the stars about you like how he tells you about the stars. Maybe he'll remember every scar and freckle like he remembers the names of those supernovas thousands of light years away.

"asshole" i try to call you with all the conviction i can muster. how dare you tell me about her? I hate you i repeat and i repeat it till i'm sick. will saying it enough make it true?

you said i spoke like a poet,

and yet when i try to write,

your name is what spills out of my lips.

we are the next prometheus. will we end up like our own creator?

And just like infinity, we can't get to the ending, happy or sad. We can't skip to the - how does this end? We've gotta start at the beginning, working our way through everything, walking up to the next room everytime something shifted. And maybe, maybe if we're lucky our love will be eternal. Throughout the parallel universes, throughout our mortal lifetimes. A flip of a coin, fingers brushed together by an accidental paint stroke, a step to the next room.

turns out mixing narcissism with deep rooted insecurity was a spell for disaster.

varsity football you tried so hard for, it'll always be my oversized jersey you'll be fit for. you asked if i wanted to write songs together, what at the risk of pooling in our blood and then stopping to realize the handwriting could've been better? the mountain air smells like you, your fingerprints run down my back along with my bangs over the sink. will you be picking oranges or blueberries the next time I see you? maybe by then I'll finally feel the same crinkles around your eyes, yours will, however be much deeper, how could I ever catch up? maybe we'll have one last walk together, you can tell me of the serenity you find in studio Ghibli movies I'll never watch and you can brush my hair while I wait for another season to cut them off. I think maybe the Siamese twins survived in another lifetime but you, please don't be a stranger in this one, even when your footsteps haven't touched our roads in years.