you see, there’s a slumbering trembling that takes a step into something warm and inviting, like the sun, but with training wheels
and every time the light of day hits it, someone comes along with a sledgehammer and takes it all away
i keep lying there, catching my breath. before sitting back up, playing with my fingers in the sand, writing maps no one understands but me
but i can still feel the pulse of it in me, thrumming into a hurricane of neediness, ready to explode and take everything in its path with it. down into this dessert of warmth and cool breezes and nothing that really belongs in these flat lands
do you remember the first time you felt the sun’s heat on your flesh? i think i must’ve had a hand over my mouth, but it wasn’t mine. i think i must’ve had some words fall out, but they came from another tongue
so i grab my shoes and shake the dust out and, what do you know? i’m still entirely ready to get the wind knocked out of me by hope.
I stared at the words written on the wall for hours without ever seeing them.
The warmth of the day bloomed in me until all I knew were the leaves above in their muted dance.
And my lips recognized the lyrics before my thoughts did. Paint splashing against the wall of my heart. Your voice reverberating through the hollows of my dreams.
You follow me into the empty. Crushing colored glass under my toes in paradise, some sense of you leading me forward.
I can feel you breathing beneath my skin, I see you speak every time I close my eyes.
And there’s this buzz, deep in my flesh. Past the marrow and into the atomic darkness, hidden where the dancing lights of misery and joy fight. It puts a gun in my mouth one second. A love letter the next. Because I remember.
Remember me as these little moments where my true self shines through this disease caking my pores. They’re all I get. These little moments. Shuddering gasps of air, touches of soothing peace and mercy. They’re not enough. They hide behind eternity now, growing farther away. Bare slits in the bag over my soul, leaking until I can see the sun, for a brief reprieve.
And I give them to you. Little notes. Filled to the brim with what my tears can’t communicate. Before I crumple back in on myself, alone and suffocating. I know it’s not enough.
What happens when that’s all I am? Scraps left behind. As the void reaches through my skin, wrapping it’s charred claws round my heart? The silence is breaking me. All these little moments, huddling together in the dark, begging for more.
Just a blip on the screen of the body that was stolen from me. I am running out of time but I’m not the one using it all up.