sometimes i think that the moon is mine
and that i am the the moon’s.
her craters wink at me,
a signal of secrets shared and kept.
i don’t think that i ever fell out of love with you.
falling-outs and re-kindlings
no love has turned my stomach so
stolen through my veins as steadily
burned quite as brightly
as the love i keep for you.
sometimes i eat
sometimes i eat until my body aches for an end
but the taste is always too satisfying to stop.
it's just the aftertaste
the lingering feeling in my stomach
that punishes me.
and so now
when you choose to find me again
i will not be found.
“we must hage the courage
to change the things we cannot accept
and to accept the things we cannot change”
but what if this thing
i cannot change
nor can i accept?
the thought of you,
lingering in the mezzaine of my thoughts,
makes my scars itch.
my throat thickens with layers of unshed tears
and once again
i find myself forgetting how to breathe through the pain of longing.
for the first time ever
i find myself to be so taken by someone
so in love
that it physically pains me.
my breath knocks,
my heart trembles,
my blood rages.
i’ve become a jumble of sensations
and there is nothing but him.
we had laid as one
“i can feel your heartbeat—“
perhaps the rain made me recall it.
you wrapped me in your arms
decorated me with kisses
each of my knuckles,
said you’re bound to me.
you took too much.
i have no more to give.
let me go.
let me go.
the tears filter through my lashes;
i let them salt my tastebuds.
there is a thread connecting us, you said
and i agreed
but one end is tied around my heart
while the other loosely circles your fingertip.
the sky is poignant with the scent of life
and the air is thick with color.
it is as though i can taste the stars
feel beats of ignescent hearts inside my cheek.
this feels permanent.
you brought me sticks of honey;
like the words that dripped from your lips,
they melted across my tongue.
— The End —