i.
when you clipped my wings, i remember the look in your eyes. they burned. your irises leapt scarlet orange flames and i had to force myself to look away. golden tears streaked your cheeks and i traced them with trembling fingers.
ii.
i remember you slapping my hand away. i remember cold steel pressing against my wrists. i remember your soft, huffing breath in my ear in my hair. i remember you pressing a kiss with your cracked lips onto my bent head. i remember thinking this is how angels die.
iii.
you were so gentle, i wondered where all that softness lay, hidden away from prying eyes. you were so harsh, i wondered how one body could hold that much anger. you were so contrary, my head spun with stars.
iv.
you would gaze at clouds and write poetry with your fingertips. lips curved, soft lips, lips on mine, lips so sinful, lips lips lips. lips speaking words so quietly but landing sure. arrowheads embedding themselves into my battered heart. my heaving heart, my heart, my poor poor heart. but you only spoke quietly and smiled softly. and gazed with dead eyes.
v.
cut knuckles, fists clenched, blood leaking down your fingers. purple veins, streaks of lightning curling like smoke around skin that’s seen too much of everything. too much too much.
