marble synethsized into a carnal body; i'd warn your hands not to reach for the moon because you want it out of the sky when your darkness takes you over. blessed be the ichor that you bleed when you cry, and please don't mistake the romanticism of your pain for an utter disregard of your feelings. i cry the same way you do, for the same reasons that stem from different causes. and, to kiss you; to kiss you would be to burn my lips on the icy cold of yours. ignite then paralyze, sometimes i forget that most people wouldn't like to get to know me. for all of the messes i made of things, none of them will ever count. don't look at me: don't try to lock eyes, don't follow the frizz of my locks, don't bring your gaze down, down, down the blemished brown. and don't talk to me.
