ast night i looked into your eyes and felt the ***** of your blue orbs. your finger on my lips smells like peaches and strawberries, and the knife you plunged in my back bled in hues of orange, purple and red. about a month ago i sat by the beach reciting my written poem while gargling the ocean foam in my mouth and feeling the horizon twitch behind my eyelids. July was pale with throbbing angry blue veins while November was a green tree brimming with life and pink petals. when mom and dad fought i could feel every stinging crack on my skin, slowly wrapping around my neck and jamming my oxygen supply. the flowers you gave me are rotting on the bedside table― some nights it moans and groans and other nights it whispers unsaid words from your cemetery of a heart. i want to turn into a pile of ashes and be swept away by the wind. i want to slide down the curve of your spine and watch your goosebumps form. i want to stuff you into a glass vase then fling you down a skyscraper. i want to entwine all your senses together, then maybe you’ll stop calling me insane because that isn’t my name.