my reflection, anatomical inaccuracy reads something like:

fairy dust in a silt layer, bones all shattered at the press of her fingers, and for months I molded a sandcastle around the soft

sinking, drinking ichor from a cocktail glass and dragging nails across my discomfort -

did you see that girl taking a tempest inside herself, to warp her sinew, spreading from this side of the universe to other?

in the lamplight I bit a secret onto the ridge of her spine; *sometimes I sleep near fires hoping my insides become glass

so it has been one year now
of me adoring you from afar
you unaware, and me stealing quick glances
when you were not looking
(this isn't really going to sound poetic
i just had to get out of my chest)
i saw the other day, you were with her
officially, now, right?
because you had to put it on the internet
(which, by the way, is ruining lives)
and i saw,
she was the complete opposite of me
and so much better
so much prettier
so much more successful
and it seemed to me
i was shrinking
fading into the background, as always
as someone who adores you
but cannot speak
and only ever yearns, to know you
but you have her
and she is flawless, i see
i see why
you would choose her
and perhaps my silence is my downfall
but you are so
inexplicably
perfection
i cannot speak, i remain mute
i just can't help but wish
you were coming here to see me
not she
she
i am always ever remaining
nothing

because i am locked away
writing stupid poetry
which no eyes will read

i enjoy being a loner
when i need my silence
but not when i am walking in the streets
snow crunching beneath my feet
and look around, see an empty town
void of any faces, a lack of any hello
that i begin to realize
i don't always enjoy being alone
sometimes i yearn for a hand to hold
i enjoy being a loner
i don't want to die a loner