leave it to me as i tie ribbons around yr neck and breathe in time to the music. we dance, then we talk. you smoke yr cigarettes, i drink. we're both happy. i shatter with every single equation you solve, but at least we're equal now. so remember last year, last summer where we ran through the graveyard and a skeleton of yr past jumped out and scared you so bad.. i had to hold you close just so you wouldn't run away. because the past is the past and now when i go to that same graveyard, i see you there occasionally, like a ghost that's just barely alive.

i just wish we could stay in summer weather. breathe in the cancer and laugh at night. set off fireworks and scream when the flashing red lights warn us to run run run. and running away, we stumble into a gutter full of rain water, my feet are wet and yr kissing me.. running yr fingers down my spine as if i'm beautiful. and everytime you touch me i picture cigarettes and vintage french movies. subtitles and beautiful names. places i'll never go. we'll scream, "je t'aime! je t'aime!" on the streets of jersey, pretend it's paris and pretend we're happy.

all those thoughts buried in a cemetary that i can't visit anymore. the names on the tombstones spell out yr own. eventually, everyone dies inside. and boy, yr going to fall in love with me again even if it takes a fever or alcohol or forever. i can't promise anything substantial, but i can say that i'll keep my words in labelled bottles, and i'll drink them just for you. when the time is wrong, but the mood feels right. coffin lids slam down and blame life for everything awful.

i only care about how much i miss you. i don't even notice the angels falling down, trying to find directions and meaning inside strip clubs and truck stops.. mall parking lots on the weekends. and even angels know how hard it is to breathe sometimes.

"you know it's like time forgets us sometimes."

"aren't you scared?"

". . . every day."

our conversations flowed like a river of doubt.

"this won't take long. just wait."

i sat grasping empty bottles while the boy stumbled about and talked to the girl at the cash register. he looked at her chest and smiles at her pretty mouth and i shuddered from inside locked car windows. boy comes out and i forget that he's really not my novel to read anymore. he's to be spoken of in past tense but sometimes i slip up and use a present phrase and people look at me like i'm being strange again.

i can't go on.

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