I’m ready.
I’m ready.
(not ready).
Passenger side, but the car won’t move.
I’m ready.
Get me out of here—out, out,
out before the streets forget me.

In your wagon I find (I find),
in your wagon I find
what my city never gave (though sometimes she tried).
Never gave (sometimes, she tried),
never gave (tried), even when I’d grown.

Hand (hand) to chest—
I’m with you.
Hand (hand) to chest—
I’m with you until the clock (clock) runs dry.
Until it wheezes, until it wheezes,
last-call drunk, last-call breath,
breath that keeps me, keeps me alive.

When we fight (fight) it breaks. breaks.
When we fight it keels,
when we fight it almost dies. Dies.
Not corpse, not corpse, (not corpse),
but close—close, close, close.

Flowers? Flowers. Funeral? Funeral. Box? Funeral (box).
Empty. Empty. Empty.
(Em—)

Take my hand. (Take.)
Run with me. (Run.)
Take my hand. (Take.)
Fly with me—me,
Neverland, Neverland, Neverland.

Trade rent for dust, trade rent for dust,
skip rehearsal, skip half-death,
skip all the nights that weren’t keeping me.

there’s that space
between midnight / dawn
(it always comes blood-wet / wolf-eyed)

and i hate
that we don’t talk
like we used to
when it starts.

i breathe alone now.
not tragic.
just/
off.
but the sun clawed her way back anyway,
lined up
with the last
of what i haven’t burned down.

shame, really—
the way you vanished:
no heat.
no wreckage.
just silence
that stung like your mouth.

some so-and-so.
you ran
(like a rat
Fleeing my crypt in the
evening.)

i’m not gentle/
where i’ve cracked.
you knew that.
still—

you swore
you’d haunt
my whole life.
now
you’re just friction
in my blood.
just friction
i won’t chase.

Meet me
at twilight /
we’ll play beneath the moonlight
like it means / something.
(You mean / something.)

There’s a wolf —
grey / still —
watching us /
like he knows
what it feels like
to want /
and wait /
and not take.

Like he knows
there’s a place we could run /
not for safety /
(but for the chance / to touch /
without consequence.)

A place — untouched —
by hunters in red coats,
their mouths full of rules /
their hounds / closing in /
on what could happen /
in quiet hollows.
(I) want.

That’s the thing, isn’t it?
The soft / place.
How do I say it
without
(breaking / what’s barely / holding?)

Let me in.

(I’ll be careful.)
I’ll (be quiet.)
(I know where your edges are.)
(I can be)

gentle.

Time’s folding in /
and I’m just about /
ready / to walk —
slow, steady —
away
from the heat /
of your indifference.

I would wait —
wait / to complete you —
if I believed
I could survive /
this kind of /
hunger / unanswered.

(So quietly.)