Half Dead Flowers

Let’s dance to Joy Division

And kiss to Morrissey

Listen to music and lay with me

Until your scent is on my sheets


Bring me half dead flowers in the morning,

And trace my smile with your

Cigarette tainted thumb

As you kiss me on the cheek


Whisper coffee-kissed nothings

Into my impatient ears

As I watch you forget to lock the door

Every time you leave


He (A Poem)

His lips taste like crisp peppermint and a hot summer’s day

(but they’re no longer mine to taste).

His touch leaves butterflies in my stomach and trails of warmth on my skin

(but it’s no longer mine to feel).

His love is a familiar song which I can’t quite name

(but now the record is no longer playing).

Heart Shaped Burn

You lit a fire inside of me.

You began kindling it when we met,

and it grew stronger every moment I spent thinking of you.

Most people say they get butterflies, but me?

My stomach acid is gasoline and the moment we kissed,

you threw a match into it without a second thought.

Your hands burn my body, but I like the pain.

Your lips taste like ash and smoke and I swear, I’m addicted.

You keep me warm and light my way, but I’m scared;

because just as easily as you lit the fire,

you could put it out –

and all I’d be left with

is a

heart shaped burn.


My hands grow weak as I

behold in the dim light

my unsure feelings’ flight

and I wonder but why

you’ve fallen for me in

a tangle of teen sin

and broken melodies.

And I beg you t0 please,

approach with caution and

hold on tight to my hand

because I’m afraid of love

but I can’t stop the sands

of time from falling

above us

to bury our bodies

broken and bruised with


I can’t stop myself from

falling deeper each day,

so please catch me

and I promise that I

will drown forever and ever

in this