every-breath-is-a-second-chance

life is full of firsts
but I’ve found that those don’t matter.
what about
the seconds and the twelfths and the thirty-sevenths?
I don’t want to remember the first time you held me
I want to remember the twentieth time you did
when you tried to hold all my pieces together.
Before they fell with the rain
because a life full of firsts
is merely beginnings ended before they have a chance.
I want to count every breath we take
not the first and the last
but all the ones in between.
—  bay-of-roses
Do you remember when love was as innocent as the sun blinking night from its eyes? When the moon didn’t hide its face behind the clouds to protect its heart from the lovers falling through the craters.
Before rain was a recipe for missing you, yesterday was a metaphor for pain, and “I’m okay” became a lie that rolls off our lips faster than a smile. I’ve looked for you in every lifetime my fingers have broken. Though some seasons die before they get a chance to touch the world, I will still pull stars from the sky until night cries and bleeds darkness into me. You're every conversation I’ve had with a pen. You’re the second between lightning and thunder. You turn everything I feel into a song, and though we never see the same rainbow, I will write poems about your scars until they grow roses. I’ve never held a breath I didn’t break, but I can write you a good nights sleep.
—  Rainy sunsets, coffee & you.
You go from person to person. You confuse the concept of lust with love, letting out the words ‘I love you’ before you even have the luxury of feeling such a wonderful feeling. You try to be a part of every second of their lives, leaving them with no space, nor chance to breathe. You lack of trust in them. You have to know what they are doing at all times and who they are with. You get jealous easily. You constantly ask what’s wrong, even when it’s clear that nothing is wrong. You make sure that all of your sentences end with a pet name, to reassure them, and yourself, that they are yours. I believe that pet names, like babygirl, should leave a person with a heavenly feeling all over, and with a smile on their face, but you, you turn that into numbness—they grow numb to the names out of repeatedly hearing them, they grow numb to that heavenly feeling they once felt. The words ‘I love you’ come out of you too much, making them feel forced to say them back, resulting in them trying to convince themselves that they meant it, that they know what love is. But no, they do not. You see, when you say those three words, eight letters, you bring guilt upon them. They start to believe that, if you feel it, then their feelings toward you must be what you state as love. There comes a point where they are completely numb to you. Every feeling they felt toward you transforms into one that breaks them. They become exhausted. It’s not the type of exhaustion that one can sleep away, no, it’s the type that sleep cannot fix. It all leads to destruction. All of it. They end up broken, broken by the one person they once thought would treat them with such delicacy that they would never have the capacity of breaking them. All of that, and much more, because you are afraid. You are afraid to be alone. Your actions are nothing but your ideas of what a relationship needs to last. Those ideas are very much the opposite; they are exactly what a relationship needs to be destroyed. You always fail to keep them, like you failed to keep me. That is when you start the cycle over again. Person by person by person you go; one heartbreak after the other, leaving your poor, broken heart with no time to heal, making it more broken than it should ever be.
—  Give your heart a chance to heal. Don’t rush into relationships. Don’t try to fix a heartbreak with what will soon become another. Look for someone special, not someone who will help you maintain your terribly valued label ‘in a relationship.’

And there’s a chance that we may never happen, but that’s okay. There’s an even bigger chance that you may say no at any second, but at every corner and every fall; you’ve prepped brown airbags and every stolen breath that I’ve slid into your eyes, you’ve given them back to my surprise. I can’t tell if you’re real or not–

but you make me feel real.

sorry excuses

my mistake was becoming
your personal immolation -
to a God I couldn’t care less to know,
for a universe I still bleed
to unsheathe.

your sentiments slather themselves
upon the person I used to be

my ‘hello’ is an accretion of scars.

every goodbye I’ll never have
the chance to say, every second I
spend holding my breath just
a little longer… it wears
my insides thin

and I am in dire need of convincing
we won’t all end up stale like this