I can't deal with you if you're so limp that I can feel the burn it makes when I look at you. I say it over and over and over and over, "You're allowed to start things," and "You can have an opinion."

If you'd like to be a loose feather, submissive to every sway of god's breath, keep being so ******* easy to walk on.

There was a time when I ached to know your thoughts so I could love you. I laugh at how ridiculous that would be. I can't love someone who can't fight.

I.
not daily

yet
tucked in safely, i'll think of
your thin hands tarnished by the gleam

of something that isn't mine

i know sometimes you wish it's scent were

my skin

of my thoughts

of my irking admiration

a badge; one you'll never wear
'cause you ****** it up, buddy

i hope her gawking mouth makes you feel adequate

that you're safe. deluded
her touch is the one that saves you
and makes you feel complete

the numbness in my hands
is almost made up for
by the clean, frosted air

it's now that i think of you
maybe
tracing your skin
uneven with the chill. or my touch.

i don't mind that your hands are warm
somewhere else

you're mine where it counts

it wasnt real

the words i felt then
are still with me

parasitic reminders
screaming
over and over
i didnt matter

i like the way you move

absorbing discarded sunbeams
like

the universe can't help but

acknowledge you
above your grin,
there's ferocious, burning, terrified intent
the sparkle in your eyes

since you told me what you
think about death,
the smell of apples,
and god

i want your
unevenly trimmed nails to brush
the back of my neck
as you scream secrets
without words

i want you to read me
understand without thinking
we could move together;

if i were strong, and
if i could show you,
you would see that
i pretend a gentle rhythm
possess a rough soul

*i don't know yet what you hide