if i breathe in real deep i can remember your dirty sheets and empty coffee cups.
i shouldve never dabbled with your conscience, i wish i wouldve taken note
of your damaged mind and ran home.

i still love you

i pulled my shirt up over my head today to show the world my heart.

heavy

darkness is a home
and
when you date the devil you ashes are heavy.

in an old wicker chair i read from my old journal, posts of how i missed your touch. i sat there in my summer time cut off jean shorts, your t shirt and a dirty pair of sandals.

dont think that i forgot you or
that my heart doesnt remember your cold breath.
dont think my mind falls short to remember your pain.
your the devils angel to me now.

yours.

it was your heart on the line.
and now
i found out your wrists were made of steel.

i hung my thoughts by string from my ceiling and watched them swing back and forth