we cannot build a life out of your stubbed cigarettes, out of my charcoal-dusted fingertips, out of the way we lean too close when we stand side by side.
its something like gravity, something like a pull, something like the time when we were younger and you told me, excitedly, big hands tracing the air, about black holes, and all i could think about was kissing the words right out of your mouth.
am i the black hole? are you? why are we so determined to suck out each others’ light? to collapse in on ourselves? to devour?
i catch you looking at the sky like a long-lost lover. i catch myself stealing glimpses of pale, smooth skin, the knots in your spine, the ugly bruise blooming across your chest that could be a galaxy, could be a burst of light from a place so far away that miles turn into minutes, and months, and years.
but its not. its just a bruise, your body protesting against my fist. (okay, i’ll admit, it wasn’t my fist, not really, but it should have been.)
do you dream of the stars? i dream of curling my body around yours, of holding you down, and kissing you there, and using all of myself to keep you on earth.
i wake up, and the bed next to mine is empty, and it feels like locking a bird in a cage, it feels like telling icarus to get his head out of the clouds.
it feels like i’m losing.
(later, years from now, a man will walk on the moon. but we won’t be there to see it.)
Here it is, finally! I recently hit 500 followers on this blog, and I have a mini tradition of celebrating that number. So I drew a song comic centered around my muse, Soranort, and its reflected off most of my headcanons and portrayal for him. Don’t take the lyrics too literally its a metaphorlike spoons are not literally spoons, or knives… Thank you so much for 500 followers, enjoy! ♥