i knew a girl once who fell in love at 14, and she didn't live in clouds, or fairy tales, she was not a juliet, more of a xanax mermaid version of mercutio, she had hair you couldn't rip through with a chainsaw. i can't understand, and fear i never will. how can your heart become soft enough for something so violent, and not fight even in reflex, what button did he push? how did he find it, why did you let him close enough? how can a muscle keeping you alive be torn between someone's gums like the fibrous tissues of a mango? how, at fourteen, at before you've crashed a car, after you wear heels for the very first time at 8th grade graduation, can you let all the little wishes in your lithe ribs grow to die just for love? falling stars, dandelions, children at the bottom of wells. death brings a wish and girls like you just run in heels through thorny night forests straight towards it and don't even cry.
