observe her like a piece of art
treat her like a piece of history

The gleaming moonshine on your hair,
fragmented star splitters in your eye,
your smile repainting supernova's glare
appoint you the ruler of my sky.

she used to ask me to leave bruises on her neck

and then asked me to arrange her hair to hide them.

you're my empty canvas

i will paint my love , all over you

with all the reds

and all the blues

Ghosts exist
Ghosts haunt us
Existence is an art form
Ghosts exist

Therefore if someone calls me art
They could confirm that I am a ghost
That I am the one that haunts your thoughts
when you sleep at night

That I’m the one you tell your friends stories about
Around the campfire

i won’t ever understand why i still beg you not to leave
when i know you’re already gone