he remembers your touch but not your face
maybe if you hold on a little tighter he'll respond with a smile
he's archaic and you're a battlefield
you were never meant to touch in the first place
acute lines connecting against the laws of science
he's a geometry problem, roughness against blood vessels
his hips jut out from under his shirt
you press your thumbs against them and breathe
try not to ***** yourself on his ribcage
he'll kiss you like he means it but his eyes will cloud when you look into them
he doesn't always recognise your voice
you kiss him anyway you hold him close like maybe if your hearts beat in time for long enough he'll start to feel it
the first time he looks at you with eyes that belong to him you think your lungs might close up
he sketches you, fingers trailing like stardust over skin and jutting bone
you used to dig a knife into the palm of your hand just to make sure you would bleed like everybody else
he used to dig a knife into the upper-left side of his chest just to make sure he was really human
you cradle your scars together
LIVEDIELIVEREPEAT
the pain's more bearable with him
you hold him when he has nightmares and he holds you when you can't take living
(all that you used to know is gone;
you're all each other has left
survivors of a lost age)
life is a series of compromises
you've already made enough for one lifetime