Run your fingers
softly
Down my spine,
Trace the contours of my rib cage piano,
The cracks in the ivory white keys
That are my shattered, fragmented bones;
The way your trembling lips
Danced across the ballroom of my porcelain wrist
One two three
Two two three
Across my subtly scarred corpse,
Waltzing rhythm
faltering
With each drag of your kiss,
Leeching sadness as a blade with blood,
purifying,
somehow.
Yet your lips had learnt to love the sad side
of me;
Fallen from cliffs of scars to waves of crashing blood,
as simply as one may fall asleep;
A wingless butterfly,
falling helplessly in love.
For, perhaps, love is what allows the wings to grow,
Perhaps, love is the seed of the destruction of free-fall;
Love destroys love.
The way you destroy me,
I destroy me.
And so you leech the sadness you fell in love with,
My ecstasy seeping from your mere presence,
A flower rising from the cracks of a grave,
As your love rots with the bones below --
The ivory white ribcage
c r a c k e d
Like the shattered keys
of a grand piano,
Haunting music
hanged
by its own happy heartstrings,
Cruel love,
You ripped apart the fragmented bones,
Leaving only minor keys;
The passivity of the stars,
matched only by you,
by the silence
of your harmony
to my saddened melody;
the silence, radiating
from the shadowed cracks of my
ribcage piano.
And so you took away my sadness
And so I was no longer who you loved
And so you slowly sought to shatter me,
No longer able to taint my beautiful sadness,
With your trembling
beautiful
lips.
*j.s.