you spent the entirety of your childhood
on the cement driveway
laid out in the front of the
tall house on the right side
of almond street
r i p p i n g
the wings off of your favorite insects
after letting them explore
the skin stretched across your hands
and keeping them in mason jars
on the middle shelf above your bed
admiring the trust they had in you

many years later
you move it up to the bedroom
cotton instead of cement
but i could never tell the difference
with your hands gripped tight
around each and every one of my limbs
and after i could no longer hold your attention
you'd throw me in the closet
with the rest of the skeletons
and now you get to watch me
become one
because we went from
crossed stars and smoking in back yards
to you regretting all of it

i told myself a long time ago,
that i’d only kiss boys i love.
i've ignored that.
now i mostly just spend my days being
really
really
really
sorry.