I was waiting for that burn but it never started a fire.
December’s hands are tangled in my hair, tugging on my roots. Reminding me that she’s still eminent in my skin cells.
I want to rip open your chest and massage your heart with my calloused hands till it starts pumping blood again.
The temperature is dropping inside you at alarming rates.
You mimic winters piercing cold.
But darling it’s only autumn, let’s watch skeletal trees lose their leaves.
Let’s watch the sun set into evening.
Let’s perform an autopsy on pumpkins as if taking its insides out could make up for the blackened scar tissue growing around our bones.
The universe in you yearns for the galaxy in me.
Our stomachs are full of all the words we’re too afraid to tell each other.
I’ve pretended to go mad in order to tell you things, because in the midst of the chaos I can show a shred of honesty.
I promise I’m getting better.
My mouth tastes like a graveyard but yours tastes like sunshine.
Your skyline eyes outshine mine.
When people ask how you became a wreck you never tell them I was driving.
Gas petal floored and burnt out headlights, flying down a darkened , dead-end street.
I promised you if you stepped foot in my chest again, it would not crumble.
But the foundation is damaged and there’s cracks and crevices where your love seeps in.
I’ve spent the last few months wondering if I was the one who dragged you into the water or if I was the coast guard who saved you from the tides.
There are no words for the way the blood seeps out onto the cold tile floor, or for the way the room seems to suffocate itself when we’re in it.
I promised myself I wouldn’t turn you into a poem.
You’ve relinquished your hold when I needed it most but you always end up caving and I always end up breaking.
And here we sit.
And here my bones are brittle so you caress me softly and ever so sweetly.
And you remind me it’s okay to be scared of the tides but to step foot in the shore because the water will wash away our sins.
So blessed be.
Here’s to you and me.
I love you.