You clenched the oil in your teeth, holding it under your pointed tongue. Hands out, ready to paint my body black and blue. Under the night sky, red lights shone across your starry face, except there were no stars in the sky; it was as vacant as you. Dashes of the remnants of broken black holes scattered upon your eyelids. I could reach out and shut them like I shut off the universe.
A breezy August night; smell of oak wood and cinnamon cologne. Hints of broken down car. Dusty pink blush sprayed across my nose and cheeks. I swore we could be in love, only you had gaslit me into oblivion.
Sometimes I was a ghost that found a sanctuary on your unmade bed. Clorox and lemon. It is though you never were my home, only the space around you.
Certain nights you'll howl at the moon; a lonely soul who has lost his way. Cry for someone, someone who has already tried, already failed.
You were not ready to be loved so much.
Broken bones can be healed, but not if your spine has already been split in two.
Don't try for someone unwilling to grab stars for you.
YOU ARE READING
BOYS
Poetryto: all the boys who have broken hearts and left dry stars in their wake.
