How many people can jump before a bridge begins to hate itself?

Do you know how many times I've begged someone not to disappear?
Do I need to show you the burn marks on my throat?
I'm tired of being all bitten tongues and twisted hearts and
Keeping shovels in every room of the house in case something needs to be buried.

We are children with skinned knees and hope for tomorrow
Tucked into our back pockets.
Children with selfish wants who are blindly stumbling.
Children of the sun, children caught between the cracks.
Children who are sloppy in love with people
Who don't love us back.
Children with hands stretched out like daggers towards the moon.
Children begging for the ability to weaponize our words.
Children carved from granite and marble,
Laced with gold and stardust
And we just want to be heard.

He so desperately wishes
That he could be
A storm cloud,
For I have learned
That I am no good
At hearing whispers.
You must come at me
With the power of a hurricane.

You kiss me with her name hidden under your tongue
And I pretend that I can't taste her.

Draw forest fires into my skin
Set me ablaze with your fingertips
Ignite me with everything we've ever been
Burn with me

Unfamiliar sounds,
The scent of a city
Where too many people have
No place to go.
I have been here before
Standing at the edge,
The edge of a place
I am unable to name.
I am homeless with them,
And as they pray for change,
I pray for arms
That once made me feel
Like I belong.