I hope you keep the memories of me whittled into your ribcage, the kisses I left leaving scars on the length of your spine. I hope that when you think of me you remember my nails running through your hair, leaving small hairline fractures in the bones of your stubborn head.
When you talk about me I hope your rib starts to hurt, your spine tingles and your head fracturing just a crack. And every time you think about me I hope it does the same.

Because I know that whenever I think about you, the scars you left on my breastbone crack and I hear it. The bones holding my heart in place begin to feel like they're going to dissipate and leave me open and vulnerable. I know that my spine tingles from the kisses you left on me. My brain starts to hurt and so does the rest of my body.

But I know that wounds heal. My bones shall form new scars to cover up the old, broken ones, leaving my bones stronger and sturdier than before. My spine will no longer shiver with anticipation and longing, and my breastbone shall keep my ribs intact, my heart safe. Safe for another who comes along to do just the same.