​
I’m doing dumb **** again
like thinking about you

no matter what the romantics may try to tell you you're not made of stardust
or outer space you're filled with blood
but now it's spilling out onto the cold tile floor
the same floor that you slipped on and broke your wrist
it's the blood of your first kiss
and the time you made your mother smile so hard you thought her eyes were the galaxies
and all the screams and tears that you've held inside
but now it's dripping down and pooling at your size 8 feet that once wore hello kitty sneakers
and you're coughing and spitting and every word and every memory that has ever entered your mind is spilling out
and you're losing your touch with reality and all you can think of is every mistake of your past
but now they're on the floor too and you've forgotten them with everything else
and your mother will cry and your brother will become angry with the world and your father will blame himself
but maybe you will finally have realized the truth
albeit too late

those aren't f*cking stars rushing out of your tired skin
it's you
and everything you are

it was only fifth grade
when your friends told me
you only liked me because you felt sorry for me.
i don’t know why
but i still can’t meet anyone new.
i never grew up
and because of that
all i ever hear is the echoing of
your commiserating anthem
in the faces of new human beings.
my mind will be responsible for destroying me
and for some reason
your song is still stuck in my head.
it was only fifth grade
but still i felt love in your side hugs
and innocent eyes.
the love like a child with a lollipop.
i thought, “what a person”
and i thanked god for our after school conversations
about the horrid school lunches
and playground games.
i can still feel the shaking of my voice
like thunder
when i asked you if you really liked me.
they say there’s nothing like
a soft lip and a shaky heart,
but is that even if it rattles
like an earthquake?
i waited while you counted
one mississippi
two mississippi
three mississippi
four,
and still i was left
with wood chips between my toes.
it was only fifth grade
but ever since then
all i ever thought is that
people were just being nice to me.
the boy with velvet lips
who told me my heart was like cotton candy
was just being nice.
as well as the one
with honey glazed fingertips
that said he loved the gap between my teeth.
but these words were empty to me.
it was only fifth grade
but i can still remember
my voice breaking
and feeling shattered and bruised and dashed
and every other synonym
that you could possibly think of.
it was only fifth grade
and you were always nice to me
and i loved that about you.
but out of your pity
came a curse
that makes them all
just like you.

You drew blood and I called it paint
As though these veins hold art
And you were creating a masterpiece
To be hung up in my heart