Oh man oh man I don’t like hurting people. I don’t like watching people I care about break down in front of me, saying ‘do this, do this, and I’ll be okay. Do this for me and the world will be bright again.’ No, no no no it won’t. I can’t help you. I can’t help anyone. I just want to build my life. I can’t give up on my dreams for you. I can’t give up on the small victories I’ve found. I need this. Don’t make me feel so guilty.
Perhaps I will be godly to someone.
A pastel colored shadow with light around my shoulder blades,
Miles above the dusty farmland that has promised
To haunt us all.
Perhaps I will drag you from a nightmare,
Wipe the blood from your teeth and kiss you
Until your hands go numb.
Perhaps you will never hurt yourself,
Or look longingly towards bottles of poison
And think of how gorgeous it would be
To melt into the ground.
Is this love?
I don’t know.
Maybe you will call me when I’ve had enough to drink
And I’m feeling queasy with the thrill
Of hearing my own footsteps.
Maybe my voice will be so loud
You won’t forget the weight of my body
On your body,
Maybe you will stay.
More than likely, I will die young
Over asphalt in the summer,
And you will remember me in purple stockings
Pulling at the corners on your vision,
Curiously far away.