A sunset,
without a camera;
A candle,
to never light.
To see real love
is to know I am
alone.

Swelling brain,
near deflation-
Soon catharsis
beyond control;
Withdrawal me now,
mummified-
Sarcophaguise
back to life.

When in love,
it all makes sense;
When love is lost,
all is hopeless-
If one stays loveless,
it’s all just meh,
much like this poem,

this shower is empty.
Ebullience no more,
I spin down the drain.

The first kiss,
I can’t remember,
but always will I
our last, in bed,
many mornings
before you left-
too many suns
for me to count.

I had to give a lot of fucks
to this world
before I’d reached the point
I couldn’t.
One day this world will end;
Eventually, the sun will die-
And you’re not gonna stop it.

Sunday morning living room-
Bathrobes in the winter thick-
Blinds are up the lights are off-
Snowfall brighter than the sun.

And once again I tell my head
that I was looking for a friend,
and beat myself to my own punch
because it’s padded in my head.

Sunday morning’s were the best-
A day before the weekly mess-
Lounging lazily in your chest-
Saying nothing, moving in.