papercut-eyes

so in his apartment there's all this warmness, right? i mean it's crazy - it's like this; basements with sepia toned photos of strangers who are both beautiful and strange hot chocolate, the kind that burns your tongue, that tells my bones they're now made of wood. and that's okay because his eyes only flicker when there's a lighter laying around lately, outside this apartment of his, it's pretty chilly. it's like sunsets though - like distance in miles; willowy shadows stretched halfway across the streets of a place you don't know of there are benches, hard ones that make laying down together weird, but i still smile anyways. it's

it's not only when my lungs are full of smoke       and bleeding from between my lips.    it's when i'm attempting to lay in the sun    flickering through the light soaked blinds,           to read this one last chapter                 promise promise                      promise           &

it's not too late to get in with those worn red leather seats. that promise of a night full of strong  silence, of sounds to pull your eyelids down, lashes gasping against cheeks. it isn't too late to feel the bulking arms of everything you've ever wanted pull you back by your elbows. i'm honest it isn't too late for the darkness of night to settle into the crooks of your body. whatever do you think the streets can give you? the blurred lamp lights that scream like crows and scatter in every direction you can think to feel  for. so many fluttering, thundering wings blending in the dashboard. don't forget that cracked windows smile at

there's just a couple of things that need to get off this old back of mine. the bones have been whispering again, you know, they say typical things like "let's go home. let's just go, let's." but i can still remember the way her big vacuum eyes watched the sky drain the sun, just turn the sink on like some misplaced thought and watched all that gold slip away. just slip slip away. all of it i swear. oh yes, the boy he watched too, mind you. but his lips had fallen soft because he felt between the lines of  fingertips, found what she really thought of when the horizon drank away the sun. it seems like they're both missing great chunks of

the lines on your moon dipped palms were made for touching the earth. bent knees to chalk covered sidewalks; all that dust piled itself in the corner like so much fallen star froth, one day it will dissolve.      but instead you'll watch as he pours it down the sink.   take your time in and out of my   diagonal stars. don't forget to tell me once you're done. we all know my memory fades apparently just like your smile.

i want to understand how the world is when i'm hanging upside down on a swing in a big field of green. because it feels like i'm free falling down into a rush in my heart i've never dared to explore too deep. it's something that happens so fast, and the wind holds my shoulders and shakes me, tells me to listen. i really can't help but smile, though, because it's that feeling i've dreamt of for so long. that feeling i need inside of my lungs, all that blue don't you get it yet? i need that blue. all of it inside me. and i also want you. i want to ruin you and steal you and paint bluebells on the lids of your eyes; oh i've been to thi

let me show you my heart. i'll fold it into fourths and cut at the edges so you'll see my mistakes for what they really are, see everything that's wrong with me. i won't be overly overt; hell, i won't even say it out loud. but i'll spill everything i'm having trouble with into pretty words and fancy phrases. so when they fly over your head like i'd been meaning to throw them at you, i'll finally be able to cry because i know i'm so jumbled so fumbled so stupid so lost. that maybe only someone as broken as me could understand.

         the clouds are paled with light blue lies     it seems so calm and fair weathered outside.      like the puddles will appear on the sidewalks,    the rain will tap your shoulder and excuse itself                 maybe we'll make small talk.                              think of why                                  you're                                   here.                              thinking the                             coffee house                               things you                                   think.       i want the wind to tuck my hair behind my ear pull back my bangs, perhaps drink in