6 6 p r o m i s e s . .

my fingers crack like the sound of a breaking a stick while my toes crack like that of tapping a pencil on a table.
my heart doesn't seem like it's beating since it's beating a million per minute, pumping not red but black blood out of my sick body.
my eyes collapsing against organs and nerves inside my head.
my nails bitten and broken.
my lips oozing blood and pain through its cracks while your lips are intertwined with them.
the sky gloomy and blue
the concrete broken and stained with pieces of chewed gum and body fluids.
my arms twisted like twigs and legs twisted like feathers falling from the sky.
i want to feel you again, inside my coat, with your warm, soft, hands around my neck, and your moist breath against my cheek.
my nose catching the scent of your hair and the fruit of your chest.
my bed, the ground where i sleep, yearns for the prescence of your face, of your touch, and of your scent.
my blanket, is you.

i'm your man..

dark cities
bright lights
your hands around me like mice
my feet against you remain
while your kiss sends me to drain
in case you haven't noticed your eyes are my nightmares
and your hate my sweet dreams
your scent is disarming
and your taste is unsexing
your bottom lip keeps me from leaving
fuck you for keeping me living

a h t n a m a s . .

i never knew what i did to one ms samantha puentes to despise me. i adored her, i still do. not one day goes by where her face doesn't show up in my dreams, nightmares. i ask myself why. i want to see her face, her beautiful face, i want her hands with her bitten nails and chipped nail polish to hold on to mine. her small nose like a little grape to exhale for me to inhale her breath. her pouty strawberry like lips to move in with mine. i was 15 the last time i saw her. it will probably stay like that forever. i knew more about her than i think most of her friends did, and i wasn't even her friend, at least i don't think she considered me to be. i find myself repeating dialogue between her and me and thinking what i could have said or done for her to not want to talk to me. i yearn for her voice. her. she wrote my name on her hand when we met so she wouldn't forget it, in red ink, she asked a mutual friend of ours how to spell it and she had it written a couple of different ways, one of them was correct. i used to wait for her before school, sitting down by the girls bathroom, she would sit next to me and we'd talk for a few minutes. if i wasn't there by the time she got there, then she would sit and wait for me. i smiled like a child in love, because that's what i was, every morning because i knew i would see her shortly. the days i didn't see her, i would cry. i would walk the halls of montgomery high and cry. i would listen to whatever music i had that she liked and cry. the last time i saw her was December 20, 2002 at around 7:30 am. i wanted to get to school as soon as possible because i knew this would be the last time i would see her, i was right, but my cousin decided that this was the day she wanted me to wait for her. i got to school at around 7:20, i cried from the entrance to the hall where she was, she was waiting for me, i sat down and just looked at her, she said "keep looking, coz this is the last time you're gonna see me." i laughed to keep myself from crying. i thought i was gonna see her during lunch but i didn't. that was the last time saw her. to this day, seven years later i can say that my heart hasn't felt such pain as it did on that dreaded 20th of December.


She said this was our song...(and not in a stupid romantic way, just a song about us)
the parts in italic were our parts, the first one was hers and mine, second was hers, and third was mine.
i was her smiths baby..
i was just in love..

what she said: howcome someone hasn't noticed that i'm dead..
and decided to bury me, God knows I'm ready..

what she said was sad, but then all the rejection she's had..
to pretend to be happy could be only be idiocy..

what she read was not for the job or lover that she never had..

-what she read, all heady books she'd sit and prophesize
it took a tattooed boy from Birkenhead to really really open her eyes.

-what she said: i smoke, coz i'm hoping for an early death and i need to cling to something..