ur sleeping on the couch

c'mon stargirl you know how this is gonna end

she's left her heart in a jar of marbles, sitting on her counter with her head in her hands. she's eating fruit thats been left out too long, the sickly sweet fructose dripping down her chin. his fingers make no move to help clear the mess, he tells her to use a tissue. her curls fall forward. he always has a solution, she thought to herself, heart ripe as the melon in her hands. there are pearls in her ears and diamonds on her fingers, gold and silver melting on her warm skin. eyes wide and flickering like candlelight. she's a stranger in her own house, walking over the same tiles with the same rotating stomach, with the same worry that no matter how many times she walks across the floor in her home she'll end up running. tucking bits of who she is in between the curtains, between the sheets, under each leaf of every houseplant they own. she's trying to make a home out of a house. she flutters from room to room, wall to wall, like a butterfly trapped in a jar.

shes crying on the phone, mascara running like rivers on her cheeks. shes losing herself, she sobs, pouring all-too-sugary juice through the lines. her heart's ripe, yes, soft and sweet and ready to be picked. picked apart by hungry hands, you either rot or get emptied out.