He is carved from marble

And I

The selfish sculptor

Want to dig into him

Like clay.


Everyone around me

Who sees my face

Hears my voice

Brushes my skin

Promptly speaks of ice

And yet, I swear

If he would just cast a ray in my direction

I'd be warmed all the way through.


I talk like obsidian

When really

Every bone

Every feeling that I have

Threatens to send me crumbling

Like porcelain.

The sickness in me

Leaves me aching for him to break me

And yet

He already has.


I want to pick his diamond brain

Pull it all apart

Plant a piece of myself

Where he won't notice it.


I want to cover him like paint

Piece all his parts together like a puzzle

Make him remix me like a song

Rearranging every inauthentic part

Until I'm just another one of his masterpieces.


...And I could write a million odes to him

In the ink of this cowardly weapon

And it would never change the fact

That his destiny's spoken for already.