I see
a collision of atoms,
I feel
the stardust gathering
in my veins
from the
explosion of my logic,
because it decided
to tell me
that you were
no longer
the one
I needed
to stay
grounded.

My heart
is a garden
you forgot
to water.

The stars burning in your eyes
used to be the diamonds
of the rough days we passed,
and the success seared
golden like a California sunrise.
When your lips pressed against
the crooks of my collar bones
and eased their way to
my gaping mouth,
you left me stranded
with the longing and passion
of what we used to be.
Now it’s 3am and I’m alone,
wondering where you’ve gone
and why you didn’t take me with you.
When we pass each other on the street,
the stars I once knew
in the workings of your eyes
have been turned to merely the shine
of a dull glass you might find
on the shelf of a second hand store.

Your lips -
they parted like the Red Sea,
dripping words blacker than ink
across the blank page
that was my body.

Your hands
smelled of vanilla,
but rough like granules of sugar
stirred into teacups.
Your fingers,
they teased me,
snarling along my ribcage
as if trying to tie flowers along
my weeping torso.

The connection was instant
like a polaroid picture.
But the love was slow
like when a bump turns to a bruise.

And it faded, too,
just like all wounds do,
love does too.