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here is the love letter i promised myself never to write.
- today i watched the rain fall and studied clone in chemistry class, as it collided with the cracks in the pavement. and it reminded me of the way i fell into you - helplessly and hopelessly. but i’ve always feared your apprehension of science, the forensics of your heart. and these hands will not learn to hold another’s, these arms will not be taught to need another’s.
- darling, pull-up your sleeve. look at your hand and search for the scars written under your pale wrist. the way the kaleidoscopic veins sprawl on every inch of your arm. the way they make you feel lost and still - so complete, as if you belong to a place you cannot yet call home. you have oceans in your eyes, starbursts in your hair, adam’s apple in your throat; you and me; a love that never died but never were alive.
- oh don’t look at me with your sad eyes, dragging your melancholy feet as if your thoughts are too heavy to lift. you think you are in love but you just want to be loved by someone whose skin is embedded with morse codes, and whose bruises are a poem.
- i loved the way the sun rays hit your back and drew shadows across your spine in a million lovely directions, tracing metaphors along your freckles like the shape of salem, listening to the erratic beat of your heart like the last prayer of a soldier in a war zone, and just as opaque for i had no way of reading the language of you.
- pull me apart, you can have my lungs and breathe for me, but i am keeping my broken heart for i am an abstract piece of art you desperately want to attach a meaning to. the crescent moon carved into your bones is a perfect example of something so beautiful even if it is a thousand miles away.
- (the world ends every day inside of you, because you are something so precious that if a star touched you, even a little, the universe could not help but tremble with love. you’ve swallowed too many hearts like apricots and i’ve watched as the liquid of being in love dripped down your jaw and mold like rainbows.)
- and i wrote it in parenthesis because i was scared, because i’ve been in your body, baby.
- today i watched the rain fall and studied clone in chemistry class, as it collided with the cracks in the pavement. and it reminded me of the way i fell into you - helplessly and hopelessly. but i’ve always feared your apprehension of science, the forensics of your heart. and these hands will not learn to hold another’s, these arms will not be taught to need another’s.
-
arienette
sister white,
i want your lipsticked mouth
the smell
of lust
& sugar
& blooda luminary of despair.
oh, stay with me
arienettekiss me moon-struck
until the wolves are away,
&
give me rum
with honeysuckle thumbprints
& a girl
with hydrogen peroxide hair,
bite marks, swollen dreams -
i’ve once tried
to swallow
buttercup seeds
in the hopes
that it’ll grow
& make my
insides pretty. -
i’ve once tried
to swallow
buttercup seeds
in the hopes
that it’ll grow
& make my
insides pretty. -
i’ve once tried
to swallow
buttercup seeds
in the hopes
that it’ll grow
& make my
insides pretty. -
i’ve once tried
to swallow
buttercup seeds
in the hopes
that it’ll grow
& make my
insides pretty. -
i’ll map the outlines
of your tears
& gingerly
pour them in
a vacant
eau de fragrance
&
press them
to your throat
under milk-rose moon,
wept with the
whole of the world
inside you.(the moon belongs
to those who hold
hands, they say.) -
i found you
wandering
through
white-walled
clinics filled
with paper
swans &
half-noisette
roses with
my eyes closed
& my bones
behind me.(you & the moon
moved in such
lovely ways.)-
r.i.p kayla campbell.
-
love alone
echoes in
every injury:don’t worry,
darling, i’llhold your
hand
when the
home you
don’t have
creaks
with the wind
& the wars
you were given.hold your
lungs, let
the eye-like
white of
the morning
whisper
words about
faraway homes
& hollow bones. -
you’re not in my eyes, you’re not in my heart either. every morning i’ll be waking up to eating infants and spitting up storms, because you once told me that you know what it feels like to fall in love until the next time you fall, and you realize you knew nothing at all. every once in a while i’d be tracing my ribs with trembling fingertips, lying in the shades of evening trees, suffocating my lungs with lunar kisses and rusted stardust, but it’s not enough—it’s not enough to shatter all my bones and kiss them back together. the flowers bloomed from the blood of my scraped knees; from heartache and grief. and the leaves have left; i am merely a branched skeleton. i’d watched you while you sleep; gentle spine-tremors, softly planting flowers in the spaces between your bones. your beauty
is an abandoned house, and it breaks my heart.
