i made myself bleed so i could cry beside you

our met kiss was wet-lips but no touch; we took a break to stare at each other

in the rib-cage, i was trapped in. i shook with it, you too but

moments were hazy and with my gazes   you turned into one beautiful cry

a break-down to throw the pale french trap-doors open. but there i was again, stuck to a tune

out through the open air,

walking in like it was my house. you simply said

… and so, like any poet, i took it for a love affair, stolen from me too late

had to rob myself of all things joyous, so i took you first

that home was no place to be frightened of,

for we simply wept and swept up the pieces of one another

yes, i stitched you back up, when you cried at the ceiling because of the cruelty

branded and new; our whorehouse was made of profanity and herbs, without

so much as stroking each other’s collar bones; we had seen all of each other

and a fire which roared at the approach of another figureless thunderstorm

you knew i was you; you got me right between the eyes

i could be that good. i knew if you believed i did

discovery came and went, so the horrible noises were no more; we drank scotch

like we had never even heard of the devil and danger did itself in first

so we slept in our own warm beds at night, away but nearer to between

than ever. we needed that pitless space to empty each other out

with the day ended, we could not expect to accept passing of all light

so we drew closer to deceiving dark,

what was it we were seeing when you told me you were saving yourself for the bears

whatever, i knew it would be fine; i had found the tunnel

i knew darkness as if it was just a little girl in disguise, dancing ballet at a funeral

to have you sit with me was simply a letter to me in… opening itself

but it was time for me to leave; i knew better than you by now what i could give

i would never take back

like a lamp-shade, i went away to give you some rest

seven-feet down the shore line, i dug myself down into the seaweed infested sand

and windy ripples woke me up to the lightning;

you with the sunk-in eyes, things scribbled in notebooks, built-to-destroy redness

not even i; understand, i made myself bleed so i could cry beside you,

without the blame of your boss. i was broken-down for you, i saved the very best

complementary colors spilled across the easel. there was no getting you out of me now

and i saw for the first time, how the ocean, like the moon, can not hear anything

they have not heard before

but it’s all-fog now,

the mismatching silhouettes are but echo-chambers of each other

real girls in the hallway. it’s getting too loud again. how i feel for you in the driver’s seat

we beg to differ, and drink out of the bath-water, you told me so many times

to watch out for butterflies. i was the most myself slumped at your archway, side sliding in

you, clicking in and out

of focus, road to me, eyes to the road. and then to me

me: are you listening? still. we are both so

still. as you smile, because we’re taking it in; the view of each other, sat for the ride

i caught you in the causeway between god and your mother’s loose skin

drug-tested you, deciding as if to die for what, i told you to make no choice; to make me up

you saw something then i cannot change, and you must see it now;

as i can’t have changed to be yours. i am not unrecognizable or

something you don’t want. not yet, even when

i made sure you knew what kept me up at night

it did not rattle you, nor shake you so much as the day i

went to the sea to get well again, and came back with saltburn.