at 4 am I am reading Nabokov,
thinking about the taste of your lips,
the feel of your fingertips
I know that I am alive,
but sometimes I see smoke seep out of my skin,
and I swear you were the arsonist
to the burning building that is my body
I thought that if I stared at a fixed point for long enough
that I could be saved,
but you never made me feel safe
I was in love with you-
you were in love with something else
as I crawled on my hands and knees
trying to find a place to breathe,
to bleed
I don't know what to do with this body
I never could find a fire escape
everything I am collapses
to the sound of you leaving
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
at 4 am I am reading Nabokov,
thinking about the taste of your lips,
the feel of your fingertips
I know that I am alive,
but sometimes I see smoke seep out of my skin,
and I swear you were the arsonist
to the burning building that is my body
I thought that if I stared at a fixed point for long enough
that I could be saved,
but you never made me feel safe
I was in love with you-
you were in love with something else
as I crawled on my hands and knees
trying to find a place to breathe,
to bleed
I don't know what to do with this body
I never could find a fire escape
everything I am collapses
to the sound of you leaving
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