You sold your song for derailed words.
A penny per letter.

Pockets

Of

Breath

He liked to light fires on brilliant sunlit days.
He liked to watch the snow melt off the roofs
of abandoned warehouses and slip,
as clear water liquid,
to the ground below.
A chemical addiction,
sometimes induced
by childhood memories
and firetrucks.

Silly me,
I've gone
and wasted
the time
away.
Do you think
you could love
me
under blue patched
and quilted
covers?
I promise
that I can be
your torch,
burning brightly
to bring you back
to me
under the blue patched
and quilted
blanket
of stars.

I'm such a fucking mess. I swear, there are limbs and blood everywhere. In a metaphorical sense. I feel like a war victim, the images just keep flashing through my head. I've lost the remote control. And the funny thing is, I don't really want anyone to save me. But maybe that's not funny. Maybe that's just metaphorical bullshit, too. And there's an empty space on the wall, where you used to be. And this cold is drowning me out in hot liquid beverages of soup and tea and I feel stuck on this page that you're turning, out of your life.

We are all the same. No one is unique. Just fucking pawns in a chess game. God, I'm feeling so sad today. Maybe an electric fence can cure my blues. I just need someone to hug. But not you, because today, it's not right. I'm afraid our flesh will get caught like barbed wire. It's so cold. I can feel my veins crawling in my skin. I can feel them dying, writhing, screaming. I don't know how I can cure this insomnia when I can only hear your voice. I want to drown it out with punk songs and propaganda. I want to curl up on the petal of a rose and watch it die, slowly. Breath is an acid that kills. So, kiss me just once before you go. I promise I'll let you go. Tell her that your love is fleeting. Tell her how you sing with the punk bands and scream out the lyrics, trying to catch your breath, fight for air. Tell her how they drown you out and that no one is fucking unique. Because we're all just fighting for air, and losing the battle.

The floorboards creak silently.
The shadows creep in.
I press my cheek against the glass.
And breathe a heavy sigh.
I'm feeling sad today.
There's nothing left
to hope for.

I screamed for validation on your heart,
bleeding softly in my hands,
to the wavering October air.

You saw me when I was floating
in an upside down balloon,
watching you with curious eyes.
You caught me,
before I drifted away.

And I let you die;
let you bleed on the now
yellowing blades of grass
below our bodies.

Will you forgive me
for not loving you?