Black windowpanes
Single yellow candle
Abandoned lighthouse
On an empty island
The kain batik waves
In the seven pm heat
But words have never switched
Between stranger’s lips
Except casual mouthfuls
Of how many sugars
To take
His folded sleeves
Show a mess
Of watercolor etching
On his bare back
Spread by forgotten strokes
And careless promises
That lingers through morning
At night the ink leaks free
His back a still canvas
Filling with nicotine
And ketamine dreams
And missed yellow brick roads
Right before the light goes out
Tomorrow he will wake
With the colors in
Once more

As I blew my candles out
I forgot to make a wish
Instead I let my chest tear
Like wrapping paper
And satin ribbons
Tighten at my chest

I watch the window wipers
Chase the raindrops
And realize that no matter
How hard I run
I can’t breathe you back
Into my empty lungs

I close my eyes
There is a ringing inside
My hammering head
My rattling insides
About you that says
I cannot be alone anymore

i lie on my bed in a big L
and try to think about
what made me
me
stare my vanity
in the face
realize
that years
of precision makeup
layered on
like the rings on the inside
of a tree
are what made my personality
and that the varying degrees of ******
that i look like each day
dictate
my happiness
and that i am sick of
humans