i placed my head against your chest
and my ears were filled with battle cries
your heartbeat pounding like war drums in the night
i've heard stories about the armageddon in your head
you furrow your brows and clench your fist in your sleep
your pointer finger twitches with anticipation when the room is too quiet
i can only assume it’s muscle memory now
a war has been waging in your body since the day you were born
a war has been waged on your body since the day you were born
you didn’t ask for this
who would ever ask for this?

remember when you told me sleep was just practice? remember how when i asked what for, all you could manage was sea-foaming at the mouth and tired eyes?

funny how i see in black and white now. funny how i can still see sea-foam-blue.

one of the many things you taught me was to always keep eulogies tucked between my ribs in hopes of memorizing them by heart. i never knew heart break until words i can't remember writing—or, maybe, wont remember writing came spilling out of my mouth like reverse lockjaw.

but i remember the way you choked up and coughed out apologies as if you were fighting tides of pride; words getting caught in your throat—a foreshadowing of salt the water in your lungs.

i know i tend to ramble, and i know you tend to hate that but i swear god this had a point. i guess what i'm trying to say is, i never meant to be your anchor. i never wanted to drag you down.

worship me at 3am only to repent at dawn
make 'i love you' sound like a hymn
whisper my name as if my body's a cathedral and you're in the confessional
let my lips carry the weight of your sins
you told me you weren't religious outside of my bed
so let me be your goddess and guide you to paradise
relish in my garden of eden, where no fruit is forbidden
drink from my fountain of life, for you are mine

i am a racing heart
i am a network of pain pumping veins
i am sweating palms and bruised collarbones
i am tired arms
i am battered limbs and swollen lips
i am scratches on hips
i  am the calm before the storm and the smell after it rains
i am the curl of your toes into the duvet
i am brittle bones and aching muscles
i am tired eyes and dry throat
i am arms around your waist and lips pressed to your neck
i am salty beads on slick skin
i am wobbly knees and tongue against cheek
i am unstable steps of insecurity
i am a slur ushered at 2 a.m when you forget you don't like girls like me
i am soft cries into pillows when i remember you don't like girls like me

e.s