I hope you think of me in
typewriter font. I want to be
stamped across your skin so
everyone will know that you
call yourself mine. I have
branded your initials into
every vertebrae of my spine
(can you feel it when you run
your fingers down my back?),
sewn your name into the collars
of my jackets, tattooed your
fingerprints on my neck. All
that I am belongs to you.

i
a  m
positive
that   you
are  made  of
s  t   a  r   d  u  s  t
and  water  balloons,
oil  pastels  and  the
collecti­on          of
settled     sugar
at             the
b o t  t o m
of      my
c u p s
o     f
t e a

I have been letting people
dig in deep and take out
chunks of me for their
bookshelves for far too long
now. I cannot make
them stop. So I always
love more
I always love
I always

I only know how to love you
in ways that hurt, that feel
like scraped knees and


dropp
                i
                     n
                          g


skittles on the floor,
stubbed toes,
****** nose,
chest x-ray
came back negative
because I gave everything that
was in there to you so they had
nothing to see in the doctor's
office. My heart was never
really mine to have, anyway.