we used to lay together at the top of a hill stating at the stars and watching planes fly over is. you traced constellations on my skin and knotted flowers into my hair. your touch was lightning and your voice was a razorblade cutting through the still air. you lit a match off my tongue for your cigarette and the smoke was a lethal gas that made my head spin. I saw fireflies dancing when I closed my eyes and I tried to reach out to catch just one for you but my hands were made of knives and the fireflies turned into scorpions and they were stabbing into my bones and I was bleeding gasoline mixed with glitter but you were frozen in a dream and your blood was ice and you couldn't hear me spitting your name into the poisoned air. the clouds were black and red flares were peeking out at me whispering raspy nothing's and my blood was on fire pouring out of the holes the scorpions left me with and the grass was a bed of needles pushing into my back and that's the last thing I remember before waking up in a hospital after they pumped the venom from my stomach.