they say opposites attract,
but then,
how are we in contact?
we met in the same hiding place, with walls up to our embrace.
same empty wells on our faces
same invisible threads on our lips
slouched posture
boney hips.
i was a blank canvas of a girl and you were a boy who liked to spill your ink on ****** white pages.
i was painfully boring and you were the ruins after a hurricane.
you had stars for eyes and flames that licked your lips like you were the only wildfire out there and i was nothing but a crack on a sidewalk.
you had every natural disaster dancing on your fingertips and i was dying for you to touch me.
but your palms only sweat when you daydreamed about kissing me and i was infatuated with your dreamy eyes
you kept galaxies in your palms just to give me a sense of home every time we held hands.
silly boy hasnt anybody told you death doesnt have a home.
hand in hand we are filthy image to them they try to **** us
but you spill anything about us to anyone that would read
according to you there wasn't any us, ink all over paper yet never any love
they asked you if you ever loved someone you said you never really cared
seems like i was the air you breathed in but coughed out as dust instead.