r e d e m p t i o n

p l u t o

thirty one
Do you remember when the light in our eyes was brighter than the light of the stars,
when we used to tell each other reasons that we believed in god?
Tonight the clouds closed their eyes, clenched their fists, and swallowed the stars.
The older I get the less the moon stays to kiss me goodnight.
Tonight I'm praying to a rhetorical question.
I used to tell you that the silence was one of the reasons I didn't believe.
Being friends with you has taught me that the silence is the response.
I've learned that my prayers are selfish.

The past few months i've peeled you off of me like a layer of dead skin.
I left my fragile exoskeleton on the shelf next to the questions you never asked me and the fucks you never gave.
I know all the reasons you hate me.
They're the same reasons I hate myself;
I don't know if that makes it hurt more or less,
but I would rather rot alone
than be pluto caught in your orbit.
   
My jealousy is oozing out in purple ink and sloppy cursive
because my stained lungs have finally given out.
I stopped shouting at you when I realized that
no one has ever fully heard something that they weren't ready to hear.
You only ever needed one reason to believe that the sky was empty,
Because allah looked back at you in every mirror you passed.
Tonight I'm praying to a perverted question
just to prove you wrong.
   
Sincerely,

if you need me i'm right where you left me.