i. i wear my anger the way you
   wish i'd kiss you;
   red hot with a little
   teeth but not too much
   smoke because unlike me, you
   want to breathe

ii. i have tried to pour flowers
    lilies and carnations down
    my bloodstream but little
    droplets of dawn keep falling in
    like roses with flames for petals
    and oh god, you know i can't
    resist these thorns
    and neither can you

iii. i am always spitting the sunrise
     back in your face when all you have ever
     given me is sunshine through windows
     that never seem to crack against my
     inferno fists and colors that paint me
     beautiful in every shade except
     this red you know i'll always
     breathe

iv. i know i sleep with palms
      tight and heavy at my side when
      when the glass of your heart
      is cracking like kaleidoscope
      dawn and dusk and everything in
      between
      but you still
      piece my mirror shards together
      again and again until the sky is as clear
      as morning dew

v. as if your skin doesn't burn at
    my touch, as if my wretched anger
    is something you love
    as if holding the wrath of the sun in
    your arms is all the warmth
    you've ever wanted

vi. one day
     i will see that maybe
     you like your sunshine closer than
     i do, at your fingertips,
     no windows in between;
     if you wanted a flower to hold, i know
     my fingers are not soft enough
     and i smell like ashes instead of heaven
     and gratitude and apologies taste the same
     when it comes to girls who'd rather burn
     in your mouth than make you feel warm
     inside
     and god, i know you believe that i am
     the sunlight streaming through
     lonely spaces between fingers that
     try so hard to hold me together
     when this rage is all i'll ever be -

vii. i wish i could say
     i love you
     *too