(nov 3)
a plastic replica of my heart
is waiting for you outside,
down with one of my decaying lungs
in a wrapped box with
a blue ribbon at the top
since you told me you couldn't breathe
take it as a remembrance of that morning
where you had a bucket on your head
and i laughed as perseus
poured down razor blades on us
my friends always watched from
behind the bush muttering at how
undeniably awkward i'm acting around you
(i hope he hasn't figured it out by now).
i'd love to drink up the constellations
that hover over heaven
and ignite you with the lighter i used
for my brother's 6th birthday
and i'd love to kiss you as if
i've never kissed before (which is true)
under all the insecurities we both have
about riverboats sinking down the
waterfall drain that our fate
led us to, i don't think i'm right for you
and i know you're wrong for me
so why does my kitchen light flicker
when i wash the dishes
and think about what we could be doing
if one of us just breaks?
if you're looking for a runaway spot
my rib cage can be your sanctuary until
you decide to turn back home
what's bothering you, moon eyes?
you seem so blasé all the time when i
glance through the
dancing trees around me
are you thinking of an olive angel sitting
on a lonely cumulus cloud?
awaiting for her great prince to climb up
her halo hair and smooch her to death?
because daydream faces look good on you
i just wish you'd wear it when you're
thinking of me too.
