i’m sorry your love does not fit into my junk mail and that i will not become a hoarder for you you say you’re disgusting but i think you’ve rubbed yourself raw against my skin until your bones have become protruding branches from your body the blood that used to circulate through me has now turned into sand you punctured my lungs and i started leaking beaches there are no sandcastles, just chunks of broken seaglass just pebbles and bugs and dirt you can’t shield me from the sun, i’ve already been burnt so now when people step on me i burn back