death by paper cut

autumn 2019

maybe i'm meant to be alone and you're
meant to be missing me with a surge of new flings
and unwittingly wringing your hands in and out like i'll suddenly be back by your side with my legs curled underneath your rib and words messily spilling out out of my honey drawn teeth

i don't know many things
like if counting to ten actually calms the tears
or if wishbones form new dreams with just a piece of meat and i most doubtfully don't know if we're meant to be

i do know that you're nothing like you say
you're not cherry heat and when we touch
i'm not melting into the sun with a scorch against my cheeks.
you're formed from childhood broken bones and the doctors said no one would love you again but they're mistaken because my lungs are cloudy with misplaced kisses

your hands pull at my heartstrings constantly
and maybe i just want an apology
for making me feel this deeply
when i'd rather feel nothing at all

next time you're alone with thanksgiving in your mouth and brunette leaves in your hair
will you pull the wishbone a little too hard and think of me