i am a hopeless disaster
of bones that run hollow
and blood that runs tar
but you,
baby you're a constellation
a firework exploding with
infinite galaxies
palms lined with gold

let me rain a little
on that parade of yours

i spend most of my time crying and listening to the same ******* front porch step song and it's ironic because the song is called drown and that's exactly what i want to do and i can't tell if i want to drown in an ocean or drown in you but i guess they both come with the exact same feeling because i am suffocating either way

while waiting for the next girl in barnes & noble you can pull out an anatomy book and trace my bones like you wish you could have done before when it was still a viable option
you inched her name into our conversations because it tasted like honey and devil's food cake on your tongue, looked away when i begged for answers
left me writing you letters you never read and calling your name and wishing you good morning like the good girl i wanted to be even though i’d grown so weak
behind your frames who did you see when you saw me? i want to know, i want to know if the guy before saw the same wide-eyed half-smiling half-crying picture of naivety
i hate sensing patterns
you knew
you knew
you knew
but you did it anyway
i knew
i knew
i knew
the ending very well
and i let it happen anyway as if i didn’t know any better
i kept waiting for the broken traffic light to change.
i shivered because my cardigan was too thin,
high-low chiffon skirt pulling an unwanted marilyn and sending chills as i stepped onto the platform,
phone in my hand at 63%, got texts from everybody but you
body trembling on the walk home under the moonless sky.
from now on trusting is going to feel like an olympic sport
i've never been that athletically adept but i'll learn to pole vault the hell away next time when i see the signs loud and flagrant.
third time's the charm right?