i hate watching
you. i hate the blood
that pumps underneath your right hand
and runs through you red and thick and salty--
i hate your stubborn lips, mouthing
every
word.
i wish i didn't wonder
how it feels.
i wish i could
stop
watching you.
i hate watching
you. i hate the blood
that pumps underneath your right hand
and runs through you red and thick and salty--
i hate your stubborn lips, mouthing
every
word.
i wish i didn't wonder
how it feels.
i wish i could
stop
watching you.
The snow was melting
when you talked to me
when they talked to you
when we stood with them
and their thinning perfume
their black backpacks
their straightened hair
their plans of the ride home.
i have trusted
myself.
i have trusted
my body.
i have believed
it will not bite back
that it will not feel the roaring rush
of danger in what is safe.
i have thought
So many times you will see
someone on the street who you will never meet
again, and believe you could fall in love.
You will look back, and they will not be looking
at you.
A few times you will think
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.