skin against skin bone against bone soft pink flesh cries red tears and red rivers where promises are born

the sun shines on your flowers again the kind you like the kind you used to buy at the market around the corner

I replaced the old brown stems with fresh pink petals the kind you picked when you wanted someone to love you back

the sun shines on your flowers the ones on fresh dirt the ones that lay on their side and tell you that world cries without you

the sun shines on the gray stone the one with your name on it and those damn dates the ones that say when you came and when you went the stone behind the flowers you like the kind you used to buy at the market

I follow your ghost around the corner because I want to burn with you To feel the lick of the flames on my bones To let them char under your heated gaze I would do anything to fill myself with the tainted parts of you To lose myself in you To become a ghost while chasing you

resentment bleeds from the holes in my skin and I watch it fill the shell of who I once was no more innocent wonder and curiosity now I bite the hand that feeds me maybe it will let me starve maybe I will come alive when empty maybe empty will swallow me

are we mosaics of everyone we’ve ever known? or am I my own to love and to hate

to blame myself for all the mistakes I’ve ever made is it just me?

what if it’s heartbreak that made me into the monster that I am

what if it made me soft and naive

what if my laugh is from my father and my tears from my mother

what if who I am is not who I am at all?

There’s dirt under his fingernails.

I watch in abject horror as he places my cup of water onto the table right in front of me, his hand gripped around the rim of my cup, where my lips are supposed to go. I swallow the bile that rises in my throat.

“Thank you” I grit out with a fake smile. It’s a shame because he’s cute. Brown Bieber hair frames his smooth, pale features. His eyes are a muted brown, light enough to make a groupie swoon but not dark enough to make me drown in them.

He’s skinny, but he makes it work. If it wasn’t for the grime under his nails that is now floating in my cup, I would have given him a real smile, the kind that makes you want to get their number.

I turn to Jessie, who is watching me carefully, a smirk carefully plastered on her face.

“That’s Derek. He’s new,” she purrs.

“That’s a failed health inspection waiting to happen,” I retort.

Jessie snorts and gives his tall, lanky frame a long once-over. “He’s more of a handsy man,” she wiggles her eyebrows. “You know, the type that fixes cars and things around the house”.

This time I snort.

“You mean a handy man?”

She stares at me through her lashes, a soft, seductive stare breaking through them.

“He’s both.”

I gag and push my plastic cup full of Derek’s nail infested water away from me. I try to erase the image of his dirty, roaming hands on Jessie.

Jessie cackles in evil amusement.

“Well that’s my cue!” I get up and make my way to the register, leaving Jessie to laugh by herself.

Unfortunately for me, Derek is standing at the register, his smile growing wider as I approach him. “Ready for the check? I can bring it to—”

“No thanks, I’ll pay here” I cut in. I pull out my wallet and hand him my card.

Derek’s smile falls for a second before he pulls it back up. Before he retuens my card he stares at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

My stomach is in knots at what I have to do.

“Listen, Jessie was talking to me about you earlier, and well—I was wondering…” he trails off, handing me my card as a distraction.

Dread fills my lungs while his dirty fingernails on the rim of my drink fill my mind.

“Sorry, Derek. I’m not sure where you were going with this but—“

Derek cuts me off suddenly. “Just give me a shot.”

I lift my eyebrow at his sudden outburst.

“I hardly know you…” I say, still trying to make sense of this entire interaction.

“Just give me one shot,” he repeats. I grip my card so hard in my hand that I almost don’t notice Jessie walk up behind me.

“Take your shot, stranger. You’ll only get one,” Jessie tells Derek, yet winks at me.

She saunters past both of us, wearing a mischievous expression. I throw daggers at her with my eyes, hoping that I burn a hole in that new Brazilian wig she’s wearing.

Derek looks back at me with a sheepish grin, his eyes hopeful.

“Never gonna happen kid,” I say flatly. “Come back when you learn how to clean your nails.”

His smile vanishes, and his cheeks turn red from embarrassment.

I turn and walk out of Jessie’s diner. Next time, my meal better be on the house.

He was dangerous. His ravenous smile and rough hands made me tremble, and my skin craved his touch. His heart was made of cracked stone, but he still bled. He was my nightmare, my heartbreaking dream.

The waters know what it means to be battered

to and fro.

They don’t fear the sharp rocks as they slam against them.

They crave the smoothness of the sands as they wash up against their soft whispers.

The waters wade in solitude because they are creators of storms.

They are gentle at the heart of chaos.

The waters know they come from the tears of happy souls

whose smiles never quite reach the horizon.

The waters know that they will wash away bloodshed of those who only have courage to bleed themselves.

The waters know that they are the beginning and the end of everything

good and bad and all that is in between.

two steps underneath the weeping willow tree

did I cross the line?

six steps into a broke heart

did I cross the line?

ten steps into your life of glass

did I cross the line?

no steps into your embrace

did I cross the line?

If silence had a scent it would smell like damp soil after a storm.

It would smell like raindrops hitting the cement after a drought.

Silence is a disguise for loud minds.