You are a creature and I am a child coiled in a corner crying and thinking of all the things I won't touch or taste again. You are a still pond and I’m the ripple distorting all that comes near. You are the jagged talons of a violent bird and I am the carcass of your meal. You are the peachy knees of a child always watched and I am the cement you finally fall and bleed on. You are the crack in the ice that I am absent mindedly standing on. You are the mighty thunderclaps and I am the lightning that makes you feared. You are the ghost of my mansion. You are a psychic and I am a palm unreadable. You are a burn and I am the sparkler in the hand of happiness. You are the love letters and I am the ink spill. You are the bones in young men’s closets and I am their mothers. You are the constellations and I am the tragic stories behind them.
February 21, 2012