You can leave me in the cold and like a loyal dog, I’ll stay. The dark can creep up on me and shroud me in its claws, but I’ll picture you and feel at home.
They shake their heads at me like I should know better, and I should.
But my heart beats for you and I can’t change the source of heat in my blood. So I’ll make friends with the shadows and tell them your name.
When you come back (and you will come back) don’t be afraid of the devils on my shoulders. Don’t be afraid of the cold in my skin or the damage in my eyes.
Your name will be forever on my lips and I have signed over my soul for you. The ink left bruises on my heart, is this love?
I will call it love as long as there is air in my lungs, even if it leaves me with smoke between my lips. I can learn to love the taste of toxins – just as I have learned to love the bruises on my heart. Just as I have learned to love you.
We drag our feet through the dirt
dust in the air,
in our lungs
We call this the wreckage
of our pasts,
of our hearts
I see you through the daze
in the dark,
through the hurt
Our hands meet in the middle
and we can finally rest,
breathe out the exhaustion
You can have my red thread
if I can have yours,
and all I ask of you
is be the one to stay
We tear our skin off so that our souls are bare and when they touch it feels electric. I feel the pulse of my heart and I wonder if you feel it too; I swear it takes up the whole room.
Your hands are on me and I try my damnedest not to think of him. My eyes fight to stay locked onto yours so I don’t lose myself in dreams of the past I can’t seem to shake off. I don’t think you see it that way.
You tell me things so sweet it make my eyes water and I try so hard not to hear his voice. I know I can’t say them back. I know you know it, too.
I haven’t been able to understand why you accept so little.
We dance like lovers do and I breathe you in to the best of my ability. In, out. In a little deeper. Hold. Exhale. I pray this silent wish is granted.
Side by side we lay, our limbs intertwined and mixed like they were meant to be that way. We look like an art piece and I think it looks a little sad. I wonder if you see it, too. But I don’t ask.
I could never pry my lips open wide enough to make anything in my mind a reality. I ignore the beat of my heart and try to get lost in yours.
I sink into you and I’m so glad you pull me closer. I empty my lungs in a desperate attempt to let myself be pulled so far in I melt into your skin, into your bones, into your life. I want to let you breathe for me because I can only seem to find toxicity every time I open my mouth.
When your eyes close and your breathing evens out, I whisper my love for you until my throat runs dry. Maybe if I say it enough it’ll find it’s way into reality. Maybe if I wish hard enough, it’ll come true.
I love you I love you I love you.
All I can think about is watching the sunset with a glass of something sweet.
Then we slow dance our way inside where you let me read your palms and you attempt to read mine. The florescent light from the kitchen bathes us in yellow and we slow dance in our bare feet on the cool tile.
The forever-present weight on my chest finally doesn’t feel so threatening and I can breathe right now with you. Tomorrow can dance before my eyes and I can sigh with a soft comfort in the safety of your arms.
Somehow we make it up the stairs and fall into old dreams still lingering in our sheets. Our fingers intertwine and we lose sense of who is who and all I know is I’m complete.
All I can think about is our love.
Don’t lose yourself in the way he loves you. He kisses you because he can; it’s not because you align his stars or keep his blood warm.
When your eyes close in the familiar darkness of his room, don’t get caught up in the way it feels like home. It is a place to rest your head next to his, not an escape from your world. This isn’t a reprieve and he is not a safe haven.
Yours arms can wrap around him and as much as your heart wants to jump into him, it is still yours. It’s okay to love – it is always okay to love – but remember, please, that you are more than your love for him.
He can whisper into your hair until his lungs give out, but words are just letters and sounds and they are just as easily said as lies. Please, just be smart. Everything can be broken, from his words, to your heart.
The stars can glitter all they like, and feel free to toss them your wishes. Just don’t waste your wishes on him. If only one ever gets granted, know it’s okay to be selfish and let it be in your best interest.
There’s a lonesome piece of myself still cold from your absence. I tell myself I’m okay now, I tell myself I’m fine.
Every cell I’m comprised of still feels the ache of missing and the ache of hurt; every cell still shivers with the memory of the cold.
My fingers can’t feel anything but you and everything else fees like water, or it feels like sand. My lips remember the imprint of yours and nothing else can sate them.
I can press myself further into him and close my eyes and repeat lies until they feel true but there’s a wide burden of you that’s still gaping and weeping. The stone in the center of my chest has no intention of budging or flexing and I can’t feel for anyone else what I could feel for you. I don’t know how to become pliable.
Your soul still lingers with mine and they dance in your memory.
I thought I was over you but it turns out the ghost of you left remnants in every crease I’ve ever been made out of.
There’s parts of something still holding on and I feel it cutting into the soft flesh and tearing me into pieces of myself.
Somehow I still miss you.
Somehow I can’t replace you in the heart of me that is made out of love.
Somehow I’m not letting myself let go of you.
Before you showed me what you were made out of, you were perfect for me. And I can’t seem to let that go.
My voice holds fast
afraid to say something wrong
and break the perfect silence
Your voice rushes
wanting to say absolutely everything
yet still saying nothing
We are matched in the pointlessness
of our words, unused
or otherwise because we can’t say
how many times we picture our hands
sliding perfectly together
My silence speaks just as loudly
as the words you leave out
because I can’t say just how many times
I think about kissing you
and you can only tell me everything
that means absolutely nothing