For a moment, everything lingered. Words
lay suspended in the evening air between
us and we sat together. The silence
cradled us and we had nothing except
enjoyment - the enjoyment of experiencing
one another - yet my eyes fell to the
floor as I realised that this was a mere
dream, being half the world away from you.

You cling to misery
like it's your birthright
and i marvel
at your lack of love,
pulsating
and bright
against my ability to pretend
as i stand in the corridor
between our minds -
waiting
for change.

You pose
as some kind of monster,
and i think you want to be something
darker
than you really are,
some doomed character
of a bleak poem.
but you're not
that bad.
Perhaps, you're as
average
as the rest of us,
or perhaps
the rest of us
are just
as doomed
as you.

God,
I know you see me,
I'm in love
with the monster I hate.

I know you see me,
as I beg and beg,
for you to give
my heart a break.

you say that when i’m skinny
i’ll be pretty,
but don’t you see that now
i smile easily,
and my eyes look like the stars?
don't you see that my laughter
sounds like a song,
and my feet are lighter
and nothing weighs me down?
you say i will be pretty,
but don’t you see that i already am,
that i always have been?
don’t you see i am much more than
pretty,
that i am someone with dreams,
with hope and light?

I’m thankful for our encounter
and smooth seas
dont make good sailors,
you were a near death experience
and nothing more,
you were always a story
that was written in sand on shore
and the tide that washed you away
also dusted off my spine.

There is a whirlpool where my heart should be.

It swallows the sound of your voice, the touch of your hand, all the beauty in the ways you love me, without apology.

In the darkness, if your body was lying still next to my own, I would turn you into a sunset, finger paint the shallow hues of blue, the nostalgic purples and pinks all swirled together against the grain of your skin.
I would show you all the ways your love turns the melanin of my skin into shades of red, like I am a rose in the garden of everything you love, everything that loves you.

And I will untie the knots of your soul like they are shoe laces:
Pulling
And pulling
And pulling at the strings of everything you are until you've unraveled, all your broken pieces blended with my broken pieces, we could create a mosasic, we could be a work of art.
And isn't that ironic, how things that are so broken, can be so beautiful?

There is a whirlpool where my heart should be, it swallows all your love for me, and all its beauty, without apology.