she sat there just full of my nothing
left me alone too long and now my veins intertwine with the fake wood grain
this is something i no longer miss for the sake of leaving things to dry

lately my limbs feel faint and my teeth feel like china glass
a sleeping outline and other such feelings
cold knees and elbows and wet grass with morning wake ups
swimming in ice driven pools
i am ready for you to ruin everything i am and have thought myself to be

flesh for flesh doesn't mean the same
as it used to
it won't work, i am skin stretched too tight over knuckles; you are the light that bleeds through the blinds between time and day
i never cared to learn how to put out matches on my tongue
no, i do not want to be left with laundry hands
i am sorry for anything i have done, am doing, and will do wrong

i am a burial ground, bone between index and thumb
yet to conquer the violence of feeling
i am half made up with no chance
and i did it all to be the shiver in your spine, the tears that seep into your cheeks when i mention your grandfather or biking or the ocean where you left your sun
i did it all for you press your hands together and tell me i was never real
for a foggy smile and a drippy chest to lay my head
i never retired into the idea of domesticity

one day the gentle flesh upon me will rot into what i'd always hoped i was
and the packets of sugar from the hospital cafeteria dismantle in my pockets
and i know i belong, only 6 feet beneath the surface
stitch me in and leave me; forget me
i've been laying in orange peels ever since

i feel my heart mirrored in sheets and pillows
sweat melts from my skin
but it feels like a welcoming
sleep slides into her gently like a repeated prayer
her thoughts are untamed and hold her together
and it means the world
that i will not forget the restless taste of quivering lips
because you are not one easily followed
and it is an unholy realization
that i won't tire of it

i walk with no head between my shoulders
setting fires with dead lighters
dirtying the lines and the condition carrying heavy in each step
and the steady ticking of my watch has become my heart
i can't recall much between coffee grounds and a pair of soft eyes and smile
things don't seep in and it has become a taught art
something tied to me; something i tied myself to