how can you not see it?

when you envision the
bubblegum pink
rose petal future
whose softness you seem to
automatically expect
that i am certain is
a razor's edge dripping
with my inevitable blood
sanguinely falling in
pregnant dewdrops and
slicing my heart out of my chest.

cutting you out of me
snipping those meticulous stitches
weaving you into
my entire self and
consuming me with a
balmy warmth that i
fight against
balk at
because it cannot last when
i am an emotional
bull in a china shop
and destroy everything i touch.

i will eventually burn you

that fury and blinding pain
that lives in the pit of my stomach
and rises like refluxing acid
when i remember my own weakness
when i come back to reality
and realize the magnitude of my
inadequacy
the breadth of pain i inflict
a festering
oozing
wound red at the edges
neglected purposefully
for i welcome any pain
that reminds me
i deserve to hurt
suffering is not optional
when i am as disposable as
the receipt the cashier forces you to take
at the supermarket checkout
i bow to the wind
paper doll girl
waiting for a flame
my spontaneous combustion
seeing white
and then nothing.

i want to be better

for you

to somehow take myself
and mould the clay figurine
masquerading as
my authentic self
into a shape that fits
perfectly into the hole that
i sometimes see
when you let down the
veil concealing your
holy of holies
even just for a moment.

i want you to feel whole

to feel safe when you
wake in the night and find me
pressing myself ever closer
to you
even in my sleep
wanting you near me
the palpable reminder that
i am not alone
though i feel the inevitability
constantly.

i won't forget your precise smell
the feeling of
my bare skin against yours
or my head on your chest
even if you leave

which i know you will.