i want to be naked in a room with you and only touch your face.

i want to marvel at the pain in your eyes and the choke in your voice, asking me to please, please, don't fade away. your eyelashes become black smoke and i mumble something about falling down.

so desperately do i want to close my eyes, to curl up in a ball and make my life an instrumental. but clinging onto the strings of my soul is a hand formed by thousands of i love yous, and countless feelings of inadequacy. i am not enough for you, and you are not enough for me. there will never be enough in this world for us. we are the disappointed. we are the ones that love with more than just our hearts.

lyrics form from the saliva in my mouth, and i sing them to you without a second thought. i am ashamed of the crack in my voice but you pretend not to even notice, and i squeeze your hand, hoping beyond hope that the calendar has made a terrible, terrible mistake.

i long to fulfill our wild and shadowed dreams, but bursts of green and yellow form in my eyes and act as my shoulder angel. reluctantly i pull back from red and black and fall into powder blue. but i know i will be thankful in the morning.

i think of a building musical ascension, filled with emotion that makes you write a movie in your head. a loss of contact, pictures with heavy contrast. self-hatred and shadows that make you feel good to be alive. i told you i wanted to be pressed up against your chest and i still do; i wish there were no more boundaries and no more seems to rip and sew. but secrets are too hard to keep, too dangerous to bury. hiding them only makes finding them again more painful.

i am reaching to the sky. i am trapped in fog and the inside of a soul. i am the feeling that you get when you remember something that is so happy it makes you cry. i go on forever.


the earth crumbles. clouds are black, but there is still you. there is always you. you are undying, impervious to any attempt to harm or remove you. though there were moments spent hating you, you were always there. you are immobile. your feet have been grown over by moss and vines, holding you firmly in place, rooted in the core of my being. every time you move, i feel it. every time you speak, i hear. my senses have been fine-tuned to your signals like an old-fashioned radio. we are synchronized like watches.

i tell you not to, but want you to. you do it anyway, i get mad, but not at you. the person i'm angry with is me for wanting it, for not being able to say no, to simply say no.

there is nothing wrong with being human, but i want us to be so much more than that.