Inject yourself into my veins, as a matter of fact, let me help you. I don’t have much to lose, so when I fall, I fall quick. Tie your regrets onto my heart and let us float away like lost kites from a childhood that we couldn’t get right, can I just hold you tonight? I never want to lose you. Stitch my lips shut, I won’t tell you any lies. Strangle my flaws until they’re purple and blue– I’ll take you in the form of nightshade, kiss me under the night sky and explain each constellation to me. Don’t worry. I’ve got nothing but time. For you? I’ve got centuries of letters and they don’t have to be about love. They can be about you. And how you don’t exist, you’re just a figment of my imagination, you’re in my words, the freckles on the sun, the beauty marks of the moon, the reasons as to why I’d rather say I’ll see you soon than a heartbreaking goodbye, goodbye. Slip yourself into my bones, I cracked my heart on top of your worries, it’s summer time and I may have lost my mind, but it’s going to be alright. Sneak into my soul and dance your pain away, if you tell the secrets through silence and I keep digging us two graves, then there’s life after death and there’s love after heartache. Some days I’m a run-on sentence that doesn’t know how to get it right and that’s the thing that I hate the most no erasers no pens no pencils no paper no lovers no kissing no fucking no drugs no boozes no more pain no more sleep no more light no more darkness no more stress no more worries no money no wealth no poverty no home no windows no emotions no disconnection from reality no dreams no poetry no prose nothing just you and I lost in the middle of a sunrise trying to be alright before the sun sets into another reason as to why I’m still a mess and these things happen like this these words are not mine I did not write them first I am just a sinner trying to ask the greats about the how why what when and where do you think I can be happy if I choose to let things go some days I see myself smiling as I chase down light spring rain as it trickles down the window there’s not enough of my heart to go around and that’s the reason to my depression I can’t keep myself full I am the glass half empty and I’m the last star to the left with nothing left to lose but bags under my eyes and a phone full of alarms that don’t really work unless I’m sleeping unless I’m dreaming unless I’m loving you enough to let you go and you can take my hand and you can love me into tomorrow but worlds apart– still, I’m happy with my unhappiness. And that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever had to say. And that’s the realest thing about me. I don’t need love. I just need to find a way out and far from this place. Young man, poetry will take you there. Past the stars, past the pettiness, past the lost kites, past the sober lovers who left drunken hearts on doorsteps that just don’t get answered and yeah I’ve been calling your name while you turn the other way and yeah I’ve been loving you when I really should be sleeping, but there’s more to this life than a little broken heart. There’s more to me. There has to be. There has to be more. I have to believe in it.