found: parts of you that are unpretty.
broken ***** fingernails.
sticky substance, underside of wrist.
something broken, something blue.
found: god, in pieces.
trembling for the sweetness of it all.
trembling for herself.

found: your saviour, all black and blue.
all dust and wind.
all “everything i’ve ever dreamed of.”
material of matinees.

found: you, you, you.
your entirety, your serious.
something bitter and beautiful.
something like you.

letter to myself:
are you still what i want you to be?

sift through names like dirt for gold.
shift through gods like a true sinner.
there’s nothing left for us to believe in.

letter to myself:
are you everything i ever dreamed of?

thought process of a child in pain.
everything an attack.
no trust. no trust. all love and fear.

letter to myself:
are you dead yet? why not?

i’m part human, part crime scene.
once you were finished with me, i was mincemeat.
something only fit for dogs.

i could **** you in your sleep for what you did to me.
god knows i’ve planned it out.
dear god, here’s how i would **** him:
a knife to the throat first, then
open up his chest and stuff a baby doll inside.
mercy is not for girls like me.

darling when you touched me it felt as easy as breathing
(while i was drowning)

i was a child who wanted to play at love.
you were a man who wanted to play at violence.
somehow, i thought we were the same.

did you ever love anyone else the same way you loved me;
all hands for taking and ribs for breaking?
or was i something special to you?

was i a fresh flower waiting to be dissected petal by petal?
she loves me. she loves me not.
she loves me.

i remember the stories you told me.
the songs you sang to me.
if i remember those, i will forget
the violent colours with which you painted me.

i remember you.
too much.
every man with black hair and blue eyes looks like you.
every girl with black eyes and blue lips looks like me.

take that mirror off the wall and show me my face.
pale as oleander. paler for remembering.
and remember something.

remember, i am not the child i once was.
remember, i am an adult now.
remember: i am no longer yours for the taking
  i am no longer yours for the breaking.

sing a song for your lover
of honeyed milk and seabird cries.
say a prayer for your lover
and hope to god she’ll listen.

burn for your lover
in the fires of your own joy.
drown for your lover
in the waters of your own misery.

dance for your lover
til your bones shatter and your lips split.
bow for your lover
til your hips give out and the roses die.

you love like spiralling souls:
around and around again.

this is the end of all things,
where i’m picking my teeth for traces of you
and the light goes out in the middle of the night.

here is an alternate history:
your hands, but with
“the end of the world”
written on them.

because this was the real apocalypse,
your bruises implanted in my skin
the way they spelled “goodbye.”
take care, take care
you won’t be seeing me again.

but we were just swollen children,
you’re thinking,
we were just playing with blood like every child does.
and you’re right.
i was a human canvas and you were
painting my childhood onto me.
you never did anything any other boy wouldn’t do.

so bring me my ending world
in hands split and shaking.
so tell me i’m unlovely one last time.
you know i’ll believe each word you say.

tell me something.
what colour were my lips by the time we were through?
how deep a hole did you choose for me
that i could finally fit into once i was all carved up?
what kind of child was i?
tell me something.
what was so wrong with me
that you had to keep me?