Wake up already.
I've been staring at the scratch on your neck since half past three.
You look strangely similar
To the sidewalk I've walked a million times before
But you're not cracked
Or rotted like my eye sockets.
If everybody knew why windshield wipers
Hide what keeps us writing love letters to boys we'll never meet,
Even weeds would look good in a garden.
The cold rusted my knee caps
And staining the carpet red
But it was worth it to hold your hand,
for a minute and 37 seconds.
There's a vase of flowers by the door
From a lover who didn't make the cut.
A cut on your shoulder
Leaves the fire burning blue.
Paper clips lined the ceiling
Of the California oak
By the edge of his bed.
Do it for yourself,
I swear to the moon I'll be grateful
No matter how long the line to heaven
Wraps around my wrists.
Under the sand trapped in your toes
I learned to choke on something other then the water
Bubbling my lungs to cobalt.
I'll flick every switch and touch you forever
If you teach me to love you back.
And if the desert could yell
As loud as my eyes
You'd feel it too.