ur sleeping on the couch

tick tock its seven thirsty o clock

the stars can no longer help you once you deem my mouth salvation, watering at the sugar kissed daydreams of honeyed rose petals & lavender fields, blinding champagne & unforgiving gods. watch in bliss as angels sing; voices floral and wine soaked, lay your head to rest and fall for apricot sweet love stories. taste the melting sunshine between your teeth and pray to a cloudless sky. will the cosmos accept a false claim of adoration? strip yourself down to the bleak bones holding you up, your sacrificial alter of belonging, the scars on your back told tale to a massacre of opinion- what did you give up to be where you are now? the stars cling to their sky tapestry with the endless desire-fear-longing to be complete, the strings attached set them into constellations. the universes do not care about us. we are on our own, we are on our own.