“It’s okay”

you said again

and again

and 

again

your words

sounded like

cool cream

melting

over my tongue

because

it was luke warm

And your eyes

your eyes 

were soft

like the painting

that I wanted to reach out 

and touch 

when I was in elementary school

“no 

you can’t touch it

it’s art”

I want to be that painting on the wall

I want to be a piece of fucking art

the looks in people’s eyes 

when they breath in oceans

and exhale clouds

the rain

precipitating from your chin

and creating 

flash floods

It’s been a month

since i’ve seen you

I know

Because the moon told me

She whispered into my ear

when I was sleeping on the stars

you feel like the lonely volcanoes

of mercury

you create sunspots on my skin

with your craters

I’ve got 33 wishbones left

from when you stole them

from my ribcage

You are an illness

without a name

A long walk that you wish was over

I need to reset my jaw

bring back my hip bones

bury my foot with the half untied shoe

So that I can be reborn

In your eye socket

Have you ever felt your heartbeat

sleeping in the back of your throat?

Taking naps 

every time you need to feel?

Or staying awake

like a teenager on aderrall

making you feel 

too much.

We are all afraid that we will explode

we are all afraid that the streaks of light

will become the walls 

to our boxes

Nobody listens to the songs anymore

they only listen to their voices

like switchblades

even if you are a switchblade

there is always a drawer

I want to be your pick up truck

on a good day

I don’t want to be 

your first car accident

anymore

I don’t want to be

the tinge

in your voice

when you talk about Colorado

I’ll plant flowers 

in your overalls

and seeds

in your chest

making a garden

of your body