it is midnight, you promised her not to stay up this late.
your skin is clearing, you are moving to a home with souls you love, you are cleansing yourself of tar dutifully collected, and you havent missed one class except that one which doesnt even count into the credits
hopes are held up high; maybe you are getting fine
your hands find the keys like theyve been engraved under the consciousness of your fluttering fingertips,
the initials of his name still ringing desperately true and impeccably loud
“he is the one, he is the one, he was the one-”
your mind knowing itself, takes a different image of some other boy, some other meaningless boy
and put it onto his skeleton of a brain.
would he hold like this, would he kiss like this, would he fuck like this
would his arms be like grape vines, would the words from his mouth be like ambrosia, slurring your tongue with irresistible poison like he always did
take him apart and put him together again, what could you see god, the insides of his thoughts unguarded, heavy dreams pulling him off his throne, drawing figures of long forgotten titans hidden so well
and the memories start chewing up the space
and you relapse into binging on emotions
and heras seed starts sprouting on muddied promises,
that maybe, maybe it was all you, it was you all along
you wish you could be as stoic as your cheeks right now, still staying void of tears
but he is worth all the falling.
he is worth everything.