Stop comparing me to
I do not need you to fix me.
I did not ask you to save me,
And surprisingly enough it hurts
To hear you say I am like a
Disease that hollows your bones,
The “perfect drug”? Bullshit.
So hide my track mark hickies, and
Bandage your bloody fingers if
Holding me was like repairing
Stop comparing me to
Because when was the last time
Us three, we came from the same ocean,
From the same cradle,
Suckling the same nectar,
Clutching the same long dresses,
White knuckled and accustomed
to the scent of cigarettes.
We came from the same blue house,
The same crumbling walls.
I call her children nephews.
Why is it so hard to get out
The words, “I love you”?
Our bodies are two different recipes
But they still shares half the ingredients.
Sometimes I’ll slice open my skin,
Ripping apart my veins like a question,
“Why didn’t you fight for me,
Is my blood so different from theirs?”
I haven’t heard your voice in two months,
I think I’ve forgotten what you sound like,
And I think you like it that way.
I want to count
The freckles lining
The curvature of your
I want you to taste
Your name on my breath
Through the warmth
Of my lips on your lips.
I want to lace our fingers
Like a ribbon on a gift.
I want to love
And be loved
And I want to count
Every minute until
You break my
Mathematicians could calculate
The slope of my neck when it arches
As I scream out your name like a prayer
On bated breaths to the stillness that composes
The universe whenever I am alone with you.
And chemists could tell me the exact
Set of reactions and chemicals that get
Released in my bloodstream when you run
Your fingers run through my hair, cascading down
Until you’ve traced the entirety of my spine,
Making every bone in my body quake.
And profits could preach that whatever god
There is made us for each other but when I look
At you I don’t see calculations or solutions or
Some theological, philosophical bullshit quandary.
When I look into your eyes, the flecks that reside
In your irises, when I look into your face and the
Freckles and pot marks that define your complexion
The thing I see is your arms to return to, the only thing
I see is the shining light of your smile in the darkness,
The only thing I see is the feeling of being home when
We are meshed together like puzzle pieces put together
To complete us. The only thing I see when I look at you
I pumped my veins
With opiates and thoughts of you
For the first time
As a means to try and die.
But it seems that this artificial
Happiness was too good for me
To give up.
So I keep on living to taint my blood
With warmth and a blurred reality.
It’s like unhooking my brain
From the anchor of my spinal chord
So that my nerves can sigh in
Bated breaths that one more day
Is worth it just to
Cut me a line,
But save the one-liners.
I didn’t come here to talk to you.
Thousands of ants
Crawl beneath and between
My skin and our lips, I can’t stand this itch.
Each insect has a name from the piece of our pasts
That compelled us to find the happiness we were denied
By means of back-ally, drive-by, cum-quick-so-I-can-buy my highs.
My body will be leaking
By the time this is over. Skin
Dripping with regret, blood, and you.
I want your tongue to taste my
Blood and the pain that lingers
Between the white and red cells.
I want your hands around my neck,
For your lust to turn my skin blue.
I want to replace breathing with
Gasps and sweet moaning.
And on my gravestone
They can quote Bukowski,
Because I will have found what I loved
And I will have let it kill me.
Like one of Harlow’s monkeys,
I can survive off this wiry sustenance
My tongue is tired of bitter milk.
Life is a poor definition for what
I want to feel my skin on your skin
I want to breathe fresher air
I will curl into myself until
Your warmth unbinds me.