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Literature
I can't write poetry for dead girls.
there are too
many pills in this
world and too
much misery in
the human heart
but that didn't mean
that you could just
up and leave when
we both know it
could have gotten better
and i miss you like
a wolf misses her pack
or a goddamn dragon misses
her fire and i'm sorry
that i can't give you
a bouquet of jasmines
(they were your
favorite, after all,
because that was
the only princess
with a pet tiger)
because poppies are
too cliche and i'm
sorry i wasn't there
when all you needed
was a hug and for someone
to whisper "it's okay,
you're perfect enough
for me, don't listen
to that junkie bitch
who just happened to
give birth to you" and did
Literature
A message to the broken
You drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
Literature
you stole
you are smoke,
blackened feathers,
and I forget
how the mockingbird
used to sing.
please,
I forget
how to miss someone.
you left warm spots in me,
familiar dents and puckers
now empty.
nothing holds my eyes in place.
they roll from one end of my skull
to the other,
rattling.
I don't want to see
a world without you in it.
you let this place hollow out
and dry like infinite droughts.
you
let me
burn.
the years age me,
and I don't know who I am
anymore.
I only remember you,
but I forget that you are gone.
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