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13 April 2013
9:36 pm
355 notes

i. when your voice rings in the mirror and your eyes have begun to 
cloud over, one day at a time, until you can’t see the edges of your body anymore—that is when it is time to unglue yourself from the floor and 
coax cool air into your lungs so that you can bloom again 

ii. i do not understand how to survive in between midnight and 4am, when pixelated ghosts find their way into my bedside table and it was a cold winter this year, with brittle fingers and icicles on my lips so sharp that i couldn’t kiss you without drawing blood—if i can’t keep my veins knit tightly closed, i should not expect you to [i’m sorry]

iii. i believe that you have begun to go blind because you do not talk about God anymore and we haven’t gone to the sea lately—find us shimmering in the waves, full of something so real that we can’t see it—if i said i loved you, you would not believe me but my teeth are not usually this sore after kissing someone and it is because of this that i haven’t been sleeping lately 

iv. search your skeleton for flaws and find one thousand and i will correct each and every one with a flick of my tongue—i have never seen anything as beautiful as the way the willow tree in my backyard kisses the ground, falling in love with the dirt like it was made to marry the earth—you are the roots wrapped around my ribcage, pulling me apart one bone at a time—

v. it is summer and i am still freezing but your fingers are warm and there is something alive inside of me, waiting
we are caught between the cracks in the sidewalk, fixated on fixed hope set in weak heartbeats—
i will never let go 

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s.t.