I want to reach out,
pour my heart out
and tell you everything -
You can't hear me.
You're too far out.
The rims of your eyes
are red all around,
making your irises
brighter than the sky.
But they're not blue in the same way,
they're the desperate color
that screams
you haven't slept in days.
Your skin is ashen
and your hands are clammy,
you shake and tremble without
even knowing it.
I want to be close to you,
but I want you to go away.
I don't want to leave you lonely,
but I want you to leave me alone.
I can't feel you
when you feel the way you do.
I want to push you away,
but I want you to hold me
tight like the way you clench your jaw.
When your muscles flex
in the side of your face
and I see your pulse throbbing,
the life fluid hurriedly pumping
throughout your body.
I want to distance myself from you,
but I want you to pull me in
like your bottom lip,
when you unconsciously toy
with the parts of your mouth
of which you're normally unaware.
I want to forget you, turn away,
but I want you to busy yourself
with me -
if you must do something
with your hands,
put them on me,
run them over my skin
like you run your teeth
upon each other,
grind against me.
If you'd like to stay up all night,
we can stay awake together,
run wild in the night,
or we can lie still together
and soak in the seconds,
and minutes and hours -
if it's time that you want,
I can give you that.
But I cannot be anything for you,
do anything with you,
when your nose
leads you away from me.