starlight, i won't forgive you, for you haven't done a single thing wrong.
and you don't have to say anything, i can hear your heartbeat through the sheaves of grass that grow back in small increments: i know you're there, no matter how invisible you may find yourself feeling, late at nights you can't sleep to be more like my consistencies, you never knew.
so show me a freckle on your arm, or the breadth of the world, or nothing at all. you've already collected my insides.
love, life is meaningless, but perhaps with some time and another place, we could still find purpose. my hopes are wearing thin, but i'm hardly dead yet.
so, don't cry. it's okay to hurt, like i understand you do. i'm hurt too, but i can lick clean all your wounds. i could be yours if you wanted me to.
in dreams, i hear the sea on your mind, once again, and build catamarans we'll sail out of this disjoint union of townships and countrysides on; and i'll gouge my heart out and pour it into the ocean, so with each swell and retreat of the waves you can hear how many of its contractions are dedicated to the lights in your eyes.