don't create distance between us, like painting oceans between the skies & lands unreachable, like, branches caging you from beneath your deepest secrets. and no amount of rain is enough to make the drought in my eyes leave, like all the people we said goodbye to at train stations & graveyards that soon became as empty & cold as the bottles she'd drowned her sorrows into; setting skins on fire & smoking death into the lungs like snow-kissed bodies whispering love songs to ghosts oh dear Bukowski, girls like her donβt learn to walk through fires they are fire-lungs & burnt skies, haunted nursery rhymes bleeding out of souls like volcanoes & violin screams.