golden (moldering)

Note: I kind of forced myself to write this poem, because I've been super busy with school starting and homework, and I haven't been able to write as much as I want to. 

i’m in love with the moon
and the stars
(holes in a 
cardboard box). 
you bleed and break in my arms,
and run away when it’s all over. 
i hope you’re happy—i hope you’re satisfied. 

because i’m
certainly
(not)
happy. i’m 
satisfied with my 
(fragmented)
heart and my 
(shaking)
golden hands. 

my golden hands,
my golden lungs,
my golden (melting)
heart. 

you’re supposed 
to tell me
that i’m not alone. 

the blue house on the hill
where you (we) used to play
is empty now. 
the floors are covered with 
(wilting)
daisies. 
it’s beautiful, but it doesn’t remind me of
(missing)
(decaying)
(moldering)
(golden)
you.