We were as big as the ocean, but as fragile as an ego.
-
To fall in love with pain is to fall in love with art.
-
drowning in the waves of our sorrow
the floods feel like wine
a taste of you, i remember
to dance in the shallow of our past
nostalgia shames
sometimes you fall in love again
slumbering in pain
hollering their name
fucking the idea of–
we sometimes recall the voices of our past telling us this love will last. but to touch his hand is to die in pain. to touch his hand is to lie, but insane. to touch his hand is to feel numb again. something’s last. something’s don’t happen. -
You don’t worry if someone wants to end a relationship because it can end at any moment in time. We don’t worry if someone’s going to open the door so why should it matter if someone wants to leave? If they want to leave, you let them because if you don’t it’s not wanted and why would you want to be in a position where you’re unwanted?
-
perhaps
none of this
made sense
perhaps
all of this
was evanescence -
to find you
in the depths of our crevices
to hold you
with the darkest grip
i held your palm
in the darling of ways
found the day
in the longing of your eyes
it takes two to tango
but one to fall
it takes one to build
steel walls -
Ran out of things to say, metaphors for you. Why the ocean’s clear instead of blue, why mountains in the distance had reminded me of you.
-
i lie across you
to find the darkness
we were accustomed to
hidden under the edges of our hands
lie the words we yelled to and back
from beginnings until ends
how could you love like that
screaming in your shadows
hollering in your ashes
of the lies we danced
to take his hand or take the fall
a question of irony
acid rain broke the bearings
we once twirled
love to therapy
words to dreaming of parallel existences
where our distance was a moment
rather than forevergrasping hands
words by dominic riccitello -
i find you
upon a pink moon
a monday hue
but a tuesday morning
songs i’d play
as i reversed your driveway
words on your bed
thoughts rescind
a handsome face with broken wrists
can you blame the devil
if he’d like to play?
coffee beans
but i said no thank you
window slightly open
with the mist from the ocean
i could write about your neck
how you twist your knuckles
for days upon years
for minutes upon ever
i held your thigh before i opened the door
drew your eyes with nostalgia
have you ever heard
of the black dahlia?how it felt that morning
words by dominic riccitello -
When is it too right but too wrong to be right?
