we love like we sin, terrified and breathless.
we are tea-at-midnight girls, naming constellations
that don't exist after lost tourists we meet on the
street, reminding our freckle covered shoulders
that even beautiful things can be made ordinary.
we are broken fingers and half-closed eyelids and a
penchant for mischief. we are ribbon skin and frantic
desires and incandescent hope. we are a voice spilling
secrets to falling leaves diving after their arachnid brothers,
mimicking the millions before us who were
judged unfairly, unjustly but all too correctly.
we whisper promises to dandelions because they do not
know how to hold gru
tonight you are building a man out
of blankets and pressing your face where
his neck would be. you close
your eyes and pretend your pulse
is his and bite your lip and try
so hard not to cry.
tonight you are looking for a man
who sees the shadows in the way
you hold your wrists. he could.
he could, so you know it's possible.
tonight you are not beautiful but you
are so broken.
tonight you slam your fists against the
wall and wonder what it is about you
that is so easy to walk away from.
what it is about you that is
so easy to leave behind.
tonight the man with a pillow face
is softer than the bod
it ends without a single shot, all our weapons long retired
and bitter words saved for later. we're in bed together
for the last time with nothing left to fight and nothing
left to fight for, nothing left to do but love
each other quietly for just a minute longer.
our hearts are one of many things we lost along the way.
it ends quietly, the latch on the door catching
like it always does and you slipping on the hardwood
floor with your shoes in hand. that was me
spilt sloppily on the floor, love leaking out of the
wounds in my chest where you reach into
and took what was left of me.
it's graphic, love. it's hot and it's sw