hands on fire

let it not be confused

let no one else's name

ring throughout these sentences

let this be a hatchet

let me put this to rest

this is not a test

i don't want to think

about shipwrecks anymore

i am tired of folding apologies

into origami birds

and placing them

at the headstones to your tantrums

this is not is not geology class

these are promises

written on razorblades

*& if you are getting choked up

then maybe you should be*

maybe we should be buried

with our telescopes face down

my mouth is full of sorry

all for being honest

we are falling out of orbit

we are burning bystanders

so cast away your callous condolences

because no one is clapping

in this waist deep water

this is not a baptism

so do not tell strangers

that this was a chance to drown

any differently

i am not a catalogue

of constellations you cannot name

this is not mythology

so stop believing your horoscope

i am not a wishing well

i am just a wall for you

to paint post nuclear fallout & antonyms for catharsis on

we destroy the things

that are not ours-

the wanton ways

we embody wrecking *****

and then cry over the rubble

this is not a heap or a mosaic

this is leaping

off a thousand story building

with no one to catch you

at the bottom & maybe

that's why some quiet moments

are so fragile, maybe that's why butterflies have mimicry

your words are black powder

and poetry is your musketry

i guess that makes me your blindfold

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