sometimes I think that if I
pry open your ribcage
and look inside,
I'll find silver and flower petals and things
that glitter and dance in the rain

but I always (usually) remember
that you are human and you are
filled with blood
and guts
and bones
and bacteria
and all the gritty bits that
  fill me too and we are the same

except
that we're so not the same at all
because when you look up on a cloudy night,
you can see all the stars you know to be hidden
while I can see only darkness

  the worst part
  about happiness
is knowing what comes next.

   he walked
in on me crying and he told me
that he didn't want to leave me like this
    "but you will," I said,
          and I was right.