Originally written in 2015
i am not your poetry.
you will never save me from my burning buildings
or make the rain stay in my clouds.
you will spend your whole life trying so hard, my darling—
and yet
i will come to your door every night anyway
the night terrors will too.
when you wake up screaming i will tell you about your handprint on my ribcage
about how i just can't seem to scrub it off.
here, i'll just lay beside you
wait till you whisper that sometimes you wish you could wake up dead.
you say no, you have to stand guard by your heart all night while my wolves howl
trapped underneath my skin stretched too tight
you say that's why i never sleep with you anymore.
i will whisper back that
i am a black hole meant to be a girl—
made of all consuming edges you can't pin down.
it burns and i want to go home. please, take me home.
what burns? the flames underneath your skin where i lit your bones on fire?
the place in the center of your clavicle where i put my tongue for safe keeping?
sure, i can't tell you i love you anymore, but at least i also can't tell you i hate you.
you will try one last time to kiss me with wild, reckless abandon
will whisper is this what you wanted me to do?
is this where you want to fall apart?
i am not your cup of tea. i burn the things that try to touch me.
why don’t you let me shatter—
8/30
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