You are a poem.
I am the pen that slashes the page.
I am the blade biting into skin.
You are the scar.
You are 8am phone calls.
I am 3pm slumbers.
You are a stake.
I am the flames,
The witch burning beneath them.
I am an unfinished story.
You are an encyclopedia.
I highlight every word.
Together we are a dictionary.
No one touches us.
I am a garden of only weeds.
You are the thorns on a rose.
I am crushed daisy petals
Laying at your feet.
I love you.
I love you not.
You are the stray wire
In my favorite bra
Stabbing my breast.
You are the sun warming my cheeks
With a careful caress.
You are a poem.
I am the pen.