Lying, Underneath.

Things I wish I didn't know

Once I met a man,

In his late thirties

Who told me darkness

Was pale and annoying like

The flickering hospital lights,

That would keep his daughter

Up every night.

If the universe is ever expanding

And growing.

Maybe once it stops

the night sky would

Be totally filled with stars.

And the definition of darkness

Would change entirely

The science book that my father

Gifted to me on my eleventh birthday,

When I told him I was in love with

A boy named Frost.

Whispered to me that

'Creatures in the deep are mostly red,

And tinted with the dark water

So that they get fed'

Hell was always devoid of oxygen,

It was just boiling seafloor and

Freezing magma.

Maybe Devils are disguised as God's

With submerged kingdoms and

Pitchfork

I have a secret,

For every person I love

I grow a new me.

And bury the old me

In spaces between my ribs.

Maybe that's why

it gets so hard to breath.

Every time a person is reborn

They come back a little wrong.

So maybe it's time

They teach us

Love is organic :

After a while, it softens and rots.