A fly drenched in the sap of a love most hopeless
Struggling, straining to break loose
Every flap of wings sealing its fate
Dooming it to an amber prison
Hardened, crystallized, it loved until its dying breath


It never hurts to think about people no longer in your life. I do every fucking day. But what matters is how you show it. I may think about lots of people, but I will never reach out to them; for all intents and purposes, I ignore them. There are varying circumstances why. I am ignored just the same as I ignore others.

I find that as I get older,
Cuts take longer to heal,
Scars stay longer, deeper

Inconvenient reminders of my failures,
Trophies of inadequacies,
Agonies made tangible

You are the cut in the roof of my mouth,
The one I keep tonguing just to feel it bleed
Just to feel something

I have starved for your lips,
Reliving endless memories,
Passion and flesh ethereal

I am the ongoing experiment to see if a man can die of longing
And I have no endgame in mind,
I will build my life around this hollow

I will move forward as this gulf grows wider,
As the streams of our lives flow in parallel,
Never to cross except perhaps in cruel dreams

I’ve let go of every flame but you,
You, who will never burn for me again
While I continue to dutifully smolder

Reposting a personal favorite for Valentine’s.

Existentialists R Us

I still have old photos of us,
Grinning on the beach,
I was a kid with my heart as big as my chest,
And you were wearing my necklace,
The one I gave you as a keepsake
To bridge the distance at least a little

It was 5 a.m. and you were on my mind as usual,
And I guess I’m just glad I kept the photos,
As these mementos are invaluable to me
Even if I was wont to burn everything once
When my world was collapsing
And the apocalypse felt nigh

Nostalgic melancholy gives way to pause
As I stare at us holding each other,
And I feel like I’m peering into a parallel universe,
One in which I never knew pain,
And only knew love,
Only knew you

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Remember how our lips once spoke their own language
And recall how my hands knew only your skin
Our hearts once danced in fire
Plunging in flames again and again

Bury me in the graveyard of your memories
And think of me fondly as I become soil
Keep me in wandering thoughts
Til the day we both shed this mortal coil

Keep your heart to yourself. Keep it under a glass display for others to look at, but never to hold. Tell them about the scars, tell them your stories, tell them how this is now just a museum for broken things. Be the cautionary tale for young people who look at each other and say, “That won’t be us. Promise me that won’t be us.