before: My knees were scraped the day we said goodbye. Duct-tape kisses still clung to white-ghost paint jobs and I remember you smelled of smoke. (your voice was firm but your hands weren't) you always smelled of something and smoke was the most common scent among the many.

Your eyes betrayed you at all the best possible times and daisy sprouts grew over the lies you tried to tell. “you'll get out of this” you used to whisper “but never alive” I used to reply. You never believed I was being honest when I told you it didn't matter that no matter what I was getting out and that was something to be proud of (I'll never know if I was lying for you or because I wanted to believe – I still want to believe.)

I believed you because you were beautiful and your hands were even more so. You never did catch on to how to be ugly and blend into the mess. (I'd have loved you less if you did). I believed you because you were beautiful and you showed it. I believed you because you were beautiful and for a day you thought I was too. (sooner or later you woke up and broke up and life came back to where it belonged).

Daisies aside, and beautiful, lying eyes collected, I'd kiss you under stars to the tune of mockingbirds and pretend that heaven was really where we were. You'll never understand just how much I'm dying to get my fingers around your neck and squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and make you breathe me like I've been dying to breathe you and you'll never, ever understand. (your beautiful eyes keep daisy-shaped sunglasses and it's sad to think you'll never see how ugly I can be if I try)

My knees were scraped the day we said goodbye. They've healed over since then. I don't know if I cried.

My knees were scraped the day we said goodbye. Your knees were beautiful and covered with skin too pretty to mar. Skin too pretty not to kiss. You thought I was silly when I kissed them but maybe you'll understand now what I see when I see you. Tan skin I envy because I want it wrapped over mine. Freckles – few and far between – but far more precious than my millions. Coffee-black eyes I wish I knew how to drink; how to drain and become and swim in and not fear drowning in.

I love you because you're beautiful, too beautiful. You breathe perfection and I envy how everything else gets to touch you when I can't.

Don't. Don't tell me it's alright; my knees are healing up and I'm missing you less and less but you're still so damn beautiful and I'm still so in love with the skin of your knees.

after: My knees were scraped the day we said goodbye. I remember how you smelled of smoke and everything else and I never knew what to expect. Your voice was firm when we parted but your hands weren't and that gave you away.

Your eyes were against you too; they betrayed you at all of the best possible times.”You'll get out of this”. Your whispers were my constant companions and daisies grew over all those lies you pretended to tell. “But never out alive”. You never believed my cynicism and I'll never know if I was lying for you or because I was dying to believe.

I believed in you because you were beautiful, and so were your hands. You never learned the way to be ugly like the world and I'm so glad because I'd have loved you less if you had. I believed you because you were beautiful and I know that for a day you showed it and thought I was too. Eventually reality set in and you woke up and broke up and life buckled it's seatbelt after returning to it's upright, seated position.

Beautiful as you are you'll never understand just how much I'm dying to get my pretty little fingers around your pretty little neck and squeeze the beauty out of you. I'll make you breathe me like I breathe you and you'll never understand no matter how much I squeeze.  Your beautiful eyes keep daisy-shaped sunglasses and it's sad to think you'll never see how ugly I can be if I try .

My knees were scraped the day we said goodbye. They've healed over since then and I don't think I'll ever know if I cried. Your knees were beautiful and covered with skin too pretty not to kiss. You thought I was silly when I pressed my lips to the sides of your knees but maybe if you look closer you'll see what I see when I memorize you.

I love you because you're beautiful; too beautiful, too dangerous. You breathe perfection in every lungful of dirty air and I envy all the things that touch you when I can't. You tell me you're sorry for making me cry and I fight back the urge to steal your tears and collect them with mine.

Don't tell me it's alright, you're sorry; my knees are healing up without a scar and I'm almost done missing you but you're still so damn beautiful and I'm still so in love with the skin of your knees that my own are shaking as I remember how to walk away.

My knees were scraped the day we said goodbye: I don't know how to heal.