ur sleeping on the couch

spiral staircases & cresent moons

i speak in phrases carved by the lunar eclipses, words scattered like stars linking together in the desperate need to be constellations. like a blazing holy light against an acrylic black abyss, my sentences lead the way. three steps ahead of everyone to ensure i take the fall, not them. three steps too far, in some cases.

the secrets i keep and the unsung songs i give sanctuary to will slaughter me and spill sweet saccharine-tasting blood down stone stairs. i am sure of that. will i take the fall for them? without a doubt, yes.

i fall continuously down the same three-stepped stair case, taking the drop for those who've confided in me, falling like the stars into place - into constellations (burning in agony, for way too long. bask in starlight, the death of a spark. bathe in death).