you were my sun
the center of my universe
but i was not yours

you had different stars in your galaxy
a whole world that was completely foreign to me

see the name
that slipped past your lips
while our limbs were tangled together
was not mine

it was then that i realized
you wanted me to be her

but the thing is
i am not her
& i will never be her

i didn’t always realize it
but you long for a hand
to run across your skin
as much as i didn’t think
i longed for it
but when your hand
stretched across the skin
i had learned to despise
suddenly i knew
what it felt like
if flowers were to bloom
on the skin of humans
because flowers are beautiful
so that they can be loved
by the bees
but my skin never bloomed
until it felt your touch
and suddenly wanted
to be loved like a flower
before your touch
the only love my skin felt
we’re the kisses of the sun
leaving spots behind that i cherished
but after your touch
my skin felt more love
than it ever had before
but it had no spots to remember it by
only the racing thoughts
could bring back
how my hands moved towards your hands
how my lips moved towards your lips
how my skin moved towards your skin
so our souls would tangle
and a garden of flowers who long for love
would bloom within us

There's this wire I keep tripping on
the string that lays parallel to current divisions of reality
a plane of moments
strategizing time fragments that correlate with the general population
but keeps me cloaked behind a veil of
they call it
dissociated
the illusion that I cannot fully connect
my atoms don't seem to just align properly with the whirling visions around me
and I slip into the seconds of grandiose prophecies
consumed with the mentality that I will never be enough
that my moments will never really
quite line up.