You.
Rose buds and starlight.
Soft lips against skin and curly hair between lifelines.

Me.
Pain pills and anxiety attacks.
Cracking lips trapped between teeth as I desperately cling to your image behind my eyes.

You.
Halos and angels had never been kind but
the shifts and cracks of the cosmos had led me to
You.
And suddenly I was filled with light.
I have built a bible out of
Us.
But the sweet cross hairs of the stars themselves
were just enough to let you slip between my lifelines,
and now my lips are splitting like the polaroid in my fingers.
You
are gone and I am left to the sweet ink of the religion we made
and I'm praying for halos and angels but heaven can only go so far so now there is only

Me.
Staring at the picturesque prison I keep you in
on my nightstand
next to my anxiety medication
and chap stick.