as she sits across from him in the passenger-seat

you've always been able to slip away

you left sixteen messages

the noise of you drowns my ears

we will become brittle and old, like the twig you have crushed in your palm

you spent years in school and you still can't think for yourself, honey.

I wanted to be the only thing that hurt you

your/her/his/our/my hand

you're the longest word i can't say -pillowbook, act six:

but you don't smoke -also posted as a chapter in "microscopic and insignificant".

they say all you need is practice.

your body is a blur and i am a ghost -also posted as a chapter in "microscopic and insignificant".

we melted under hot heat, ice in the bottom of a glass -also posted as a chapter in "microscopic and insignifacant".

when she didn't really have a lot to start with, anyways.

a good thing though, -also posted as a chapter in "microscopic and insignifacant".

unable to adjust.

metaphorically speaking

"it reminds me of going back"

they got stuck in her throat halfway up.

this night and every other.

i'd like to use them to understand you.

You told me your name and I lied to you about mine. - the little things.

eating at the edges of my brain

smiles can't fix everything and

but the man didn't work, nothing worked - possible trigger.

the pattern is mismatched like Wednesday nights outside city bars.

except i didn't

, it's kind of all i got.

las estrellas son luces, en realidad tu dios está aburrido con ti.

style and his eyes weren't blue they were brown.

a seed planted in the soil, warming underneath a careful smile

- but we're already here.

growing mold and poisoning everything it touches.

i miss the fact that we had ever met. -pillowbook.

over her bones in the dark, / trigger

he taught her how to count the syllables of their heartbeats.

memoirs are too short to ever have explained a person.

your favorite song on the radio

the black of your mouth, a candlelight vigil.

i want and i want and i want.

i'd like to think of you as

it came down to this.

slow hands and stumbling feet.

the stars exploded onto my tongue, they burned but i swallowed them anyway.

the air was warm in chicago but it was cold in your basement.

we ran around the stars too long.

i was never good at crossing my i's.

i wandered home, saying your name.

but it's really only you.

it's not like i had any hold.

even the bleach can't take out the stains. -also posted as a chapter in "microscopic and insignifacant".

the stars before they hit the ground. -also posted as a chapter in "microscopic and insignifacant".

i want to make my way across the world

ctrl alt delete, she was never good at this, anyway.

i'm not quite over my indie-punk phase and your smile -a pillowbook, act five:

and maybe i don't want to fall in love, but i want to fall into something

and your mind don't work the way you want it to.

was a better love story told over lukewarm tea and brownbutton eyes.

the study of photographs, or lack thereof.

your ears are tiny, like seashells

cause they always die young.

i don't know when we started to go missing.

she isn't beautiful, and he isn't her father.

you offered to teach me how to drown

we taste so sour /haiku/

two plus two does not equal four

empty/empty/empty -trigger

but we will /haiku/

a painted gold ring and a blue orchesis, we run barefoot through the midnight grass...you kiss me til i'm swollen on the lip, eyes open wide because i'm afraid of what happens when i'll forget this

- i might be

just like the first and the last

but her robert mapplethorpe's two decades late

my dearest apologies, ma'am

- could not resist myself from you, tainting my words with some sort of remembrance i struggle to cling onto

- and you're still here, breathing, alive /also posted as a chapter in 'the paradox of the mouse and the muse'/

/pillowbook/ - you're the kind of girl who will die young. in other words; you spend your lunch period carving sylvia plath into bathroom stall walls with a purple sharpie & wonder why you threw out that apple in the first place. or maybe that's just me.

i suck the poison off your teeth...our love's such a reincarnated romeo&juliet it's almost pathetic.

is it selfish to say that i don't want to.

she should've known better than to trust white fangs and black wings. –a collection–

breathe /trigger/

she can't walk away but she can't look back. /trigger/

the cross tattooed on the middle finger of your right hand burns like swallowed gasoline.

.

he never saw it coming at all. -interpret as you will-

drunk off chlorine and miller lite, this summer hangover will eat us alive. -a collection-

But this wasn't part of the deal, you remember distinctly like tomorrow.

i feel nostalgic today

down to every last syllable

she wants to dance, i want to corrupt

to be quite frank i hated us as much as you did

little rubber ducky

i kised yuor sitser

if only i could find my way back to you

we love cheating on tests

when you're around i'll have to hide the knives

sweet spit stuck on salt-sea skin

photographs stained color polaroid

just another white trash county kiss

oh dearest juliet

one of these days, he'll stop forgiving you

drinks down the excuses on weekday nights and throws them up on weekend mornings.

i'll follow you until we fall

through the drive-thru window

we have names, too

hunched bodies crouched over the still water, a sky shade of blue