Baby, let's break the world.
We'll hum a symphony
and skip stones across mountains
while we smoke cigarettes rolled with desire.

We'll bottle the oceans
and sell them for $1.99 a piece
while we turn diamonds to liquid sand
that's capable of softening these innumerable miles of asphalt into fields of yellow.

Let's break the world, my love.
We'll show the universe that we are more than just tiny flecks of flesh forced to live and be bound by the rules of fragile glass.

Let's break this Godforsaken world
and leave it to rot.

Welcome to my web, baby.
Better get comfortable.
I'll spin you,
Ensnare you in my thread.
Until you are nothing but juice in my core.

-a.r.r.

What is jealousy?
In its simplest form,
insecurity.

The emotions involved,
fear of impurity.
The nagging thought,
disloyalty.

The dependance,
that need for security.

You are the razor's glistening edge.
Slits across fingertips.
Yes, there will be bloodshed.
Blood from tips to wrists dripping and spilling from my veins.
It is not poetic.
So I'll clean up my own mess.
No nerves left to damage with the memory of you hardened, turned to stone,
stored in nails and soft hairs.
Locked away. No key in sight.
I have tried to unfurl these fists,
only to fumble around with the essence, the innocence, of lovers after.
These hands are cracked, wrinkled,
disintegrating.
Their untold stories turned to dust.
My palms no longer hold signs of a future.
They can do nothing.
Paralyzed by your pride.
Paralyzed by your edge.
Glistening.
A razor's edge.