We army crawl across the dirt and patches of dying grass.

Barely missing us, they passed.

Crawl to one smoldering, watching out for broken glass.

We thoroughly examine it.

The white of the missile contrasts against the dirt.

We hear their cackles.

I hear a familiar click.

I look up toward the deck.

Curiously, I watch a finger press the button of the bic.

From the corner of my eye, I see her mother's fingers flick.

Another missile heading our way.

"Watch out!" my cousin yells to make me alert.

But it was too late.

Why didn't I hear the familiar noise of it hitting the dirt?

I look down and see another cigarette burn a hole through my skirt.

I was too slow.

It was too quick.

Now my skirt is aglow.

Through her half-witted smile, smoke is blown.

I was only six,

They should have known.

There you are, floating man.
pale face against my window.
Are you standing on my bed or hanging from my ceiling?
You are facing my window, but are you peering out?
Your eyes seem closed.
My eyes are barely open.

You are wearing a red stripped shirt that pops off your pale skin.
Your wrinkles are deep. Everything about you is deep.
You seem like you are dead or dying.

It is the morning, and here you are.
just floating over my bed.
I don't know you, who are you?…

An illusion?
A dream?
A ghost?

I fall back asleep and dream about you.
I told myself you were nice and I happened upon a rare moment...
You didn't know I had woke.
You didn't know that I saw you hanging there.
You were just passing by and decided to bask in the morning rays of sun that burst through my window.
Unbeknownst to you, I was watching...


I was scared to open my eyes.
Are you still there?

Why the hell am I so calm?!?
I wake to find you feet from me and I decide to write a poem…

You don't ship it like I do
In my spare time (all the time)
Instead of paying attention.
You're not as much of a fan as I am
You say I'm obsessed
I call it infatuation.

You can't fill the hole in yourself
Without a ship but you'd rather not
So you can shy away from shipping
I'm on a ******* yacht.
You don't understand the calling
Which is, basically, at this point, normality
And thus, I have no need for you
Go be a carbon copy.

But I will sail!
I will go down with this ship!
(**** tumblr to hell
For spoiling my ****!)
But sail, I will, even still.
Oh, in my battleship
I'll rip your OTP!
My ship is stronger
My ship is closer to canon in reality!
So yes, your pairing, I will shred, I'll rip.