There is something wrong with my insides

They are too still, too silent

The wind blows and my brain tries to compensate so it has become my skin, my shield

it complains

jesus it's cold

jesus is cold get a blanket get some straw

Get sentimental about ways of counting days

Of making things far too close 

too poen for those who see--


Is that why you came?


Your (w)hole was showing, you saw so in your reflection bouncing back at you from the glare of light particles off of spiderwebs and snowflakes, carrying with them our image

You were terrible you were raw 

and you were


Now there is an entire want of movement in your shoulders

And the rush of your blood in myears is pulling back like the tide in seashells

Stella the snow is haunting me, is trauma,

the snow is still falling from my head

So let me melt it

Let my heart beat, pound, palpitate, vibrate hum screech scream

those words you said to me that made me look up

Hands the color of stars

Baby you don't know how far

we can go with this

And the divide between your eyes

Splits apart as you come flyin'

right out of your skin


Hands the color of stars


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