if i could use cookie cutters to pull out stars
from my skin to make the sky as bright as you'd
like it to be i would do that
if i could use the smoke i exhale to fashion
a swing so we could pretend to fly together
i would do that but you fly and run alone always

where is the eraser for the brain

i want to bury you in chemicals
i want to murder emotion
i want to not be completely naked in front of you
though you are more than miles gone from here
you know me without a word having to be said
upper hand advantage
game over before i even started playing
i cannot murder this emotion

anything attached to you is museum beautiful
i am museum fragile and dusty in dim lighting
i am open in a disturbed way that makes you not want
to open your eyes fully
let me hold onto your hip bones for dear life
one more time
let me gnaw at your edges like this is the only starvation
i have known

we talk briefly on a monday night
you give no sign of anything
my weakness pours and i put my hands away
ashamed as if there is blood on them
something here won't pass
my skin unpeeled itself and your words
are made of salt
still i beg of you to speak
as though i know the sting is all i have
left