I’ve locked my rib cages
just in case my heart
wanted to jump out
and felt the need to fly.
in my defense, i thought he was a comet.
from where i was standing, he looked like
a fizzling star hurtling towards the ground
and i couldn’t look away from
his beautiful downfall.
in my defense, i fell in love with his despair.
his hands were glowing embers, and i was
looking for a fire to warm myself by. he made
me forget that even the moon is just a floating
rock when the sun isn’t lighting it up from
behind, and the most ordinary things can
look extraordinary in the right slant of light.
in my defense, i wanted to be a hero.
i thought i could save him so i used my
body to cushion the impact when he
crashed into the earth. in my defense,
his burning mouth. in my defense,
the craters he left in my skin.
One thing you have to know about me is that I am deeply unhappy. You can’t dip your hands inside me without corroding your skin. Once, I tried to sing for the moon but all I did was howl until it buried itself beneath its bed of night. I didn’t see the moon again.
I crack book spines and pluck flower petals and pretend there’s no blood on my hands. There’s desert in my bones thirsty for rainwater. Deserts are so lonely. It’s ironic they shine golden under the sun. I wish people aren’t so deaf. They couldn’t hear the screams in my laugh.
Sometimes, I wish my shadow would get up and hold my hand. But the darkness will just eat her up.
I want to be on your lap,
kissing you hard.