HOW WILL WE REACH

i

into skies 

  of 

      me

that i let your scarred hands (with fingertips lined with supernovas and big bangs of parallel universes and cold spots of pockets of darkness and missing galaxies) mode me

   into 

        who 

  i am

you never knew

that when i handed you some clay and told you

that it was meant pottery

but all along it was my heart

that you shaped into a masterpiece

   terrible

desperate

        alive

you turned my hair into strands of vertigo and tied it around my neck and squeezed until i couldn't breathe

until the world was a swirling universe of you

you

you

you you you

youyouyouyouyou

(i love) y-y-y-yyyyyou

your eyes are so dark i wonder how you even see

and i stare

into skies of

strangled stars and nightmares

you are broken darkness

you are the tormented artist

ripping your pottery and paintings into astronomical ruin and hurling them into the sky within you so they would shatter against the darkness 

you left without a goodbye

without every knowing that you'd turned my heart into a beautiful mistake

when you thought it was just clay

and i suppose it wouldn't have made a difference if you'd known anyway

- dedicated to my first love 

(or was it just an obsession from afar?)