Vampire

I am going to die
alone in my bed,
trapped in my head,
heart in my hand,
drowning on dry land,
lungs full of regret,
as I second guess
every word
every touch
every look.
I'm too much
to take.
I put my heart
at stake,
and you put a stake
through my heart.

Sheets

I want to be
who your heart
reaches out for
in the dark.
I want to be
who your fingers
miss when my
shape lingers

in your sheets,
in your memory.
(Your sheets, your heart
are in my memory).

Saying Nothing

I
talk talk talk talk
and say so little
as though if I stopped
I would say what I'm really thinking,
how I really feel.

I
talk talk talk talk
and say so little,
becuase if I were to say
the things that sit in the base of my throat,
it would overwhelm you.

I
talk talk talk talk
becuase talking is easier
than communicating
and I don't think you would want to hear
the things I really have to say.

Good For

If my rights, to you,
or lack thereof,
are an annoyance,
when spoken of;

when you refuse to learn,
to grow better than you were,
when it's too much work
to not hurt people worse off than you;

when you throw fourteen years out the window
because I remind you that the world is a dark place
for other people, and that if you're not part of the solution
then you're a part of the problem,
and you know as well as I do that you're not trying to solve anything...

When you're too good for your best friend of nearly two decades,
because she faces troubles you don't have to and so
you feel like it's too much damn drama,
because she won't let it go already
with her activist propaganda...

Well, what are you good for then?
Besides trivializing my mental illness,
my social repression, that is.
Well, I'll tell you you're no good for me,
and good riddance to you.

Butterflies

You've never stopped giving me butterflies
I haven't stopped trying to meet your eyes
across the table, the room.
I've labeled you my doom,
for I've been surviving on your not-lies,
unsaid untruths that prolong how my heart dies.
I just pray it happens soon.