he felt slight in my arms,
like trying to hold
a ray of light
from the sun tattoo
on his wrist.
and
when he kissed me
i tasted his sadness
and his demons,
drinking them in myself
with the hope that
he would be able
to burn a little brighter,
like the sun tattoo
on his wrist.

i would
live
or
die
with a
single
word from him,
but i
have to
act like
i can
live happily
without a
single
word from him

its been long enough
that the memories
are starting to fade
from the glare
of reality.
but the one moment
i still feel
as vividly now
as i did then
is when he stared into
my deepest parts and whispered
this? this right here? its real.

the only thing i feel
more vividly than that
is the hurt from realizing
**it wasn't true

we play house.
he makes us coffee
and
i wear his shirts.

we play house.
he drinks his feelings
and
i stare at the ceiling while he sleeps.

we play house*.