Young Writers Society

i prefer the comfort of darkness ever since i met you, 
where bodies are just bodies with different hymns.
your name is carved in my throat.
it really hurts to swallow
but i can’t feel when i breathe.
beauty has no glow until it settles.
you run through my veins, everyone i tend to see can't help. 
there is no cure to love, the everlasting epidemic.
i miss hearing your tiresome complaints about needing coffee
even though you already had three cups. 
sometimes i wish you would just say what you fucking mean.
i know, i say, i know
it at all but, loneliness doesn't leave and, i don't know how to describe it.
maybe bus rides with total strangers, but isn't that like the
dark? 
or that vase of flowers your mom treasures in the kitchen
because she has nothing left to cater to.
i read the paper because you said current events are
important.
but my neighbor would rather me read her.
it doesn't feel right but another day passes.
closer or further, i'll never know.
i have to hide the body, did you know a heart could wilt?
that body is really my body, and i asked my friends but i'm
done pretending
you always rolled your eyes when i said i need to get out of
here
because i can be a better me in a new city
i wish my fingertips weren't dry for attention,
my hair flows like you ran your fingers through it in the
gust of winter.
your freckles are heavenly and your eyes truly consuming but
not like these skins i hide in.

the night grows old but, we
died young.