if you can shadow a cloud
then you could shadow me
like the imprint that’s left
or the news on tv
now my fingers are faucets
with a permanent leak
fragments and ink stains
that just want a place to be
every skull keeps like plastic
holding everything that’s left
like your liquid lit eyes
or your beautiful breath
i’m just a trunk in an attic
that i keep in my chest
to remind myself that i need this
when its only air on my neck
i don’t dream anymore
of the things i’ll never be
when i lay next to you
just like a black and white dream
it never seems to matter
to the ghost inside me
because when our bones are parallel
it means everything to me
like a conspiracy theory
i’ve polished to a tee
i only write in the air of an upset
because it’s only for me
but when hearts are connected
and my teeth get to breathe
the only one on my mind
is the one i am trying to please
No comments:
Post a Comment