I confused you between really fucking good for me and this is how I die.
— We began in an eclipse of cascading smiles, where closer meant place your lips around the words I want to say, don’t give the moonlight a chance to slip between us. when your day was a verse that acknowledged the presence of an established duo, dialing backwards to recite prescriptions that could fill the emptiness that was you. The clouds signed our piece when we let a night dictate the feelings we wore, when cold meant looking into your eyes for hours, but never understanding the sadness that followed I love you. Maybe my heart was born broken, maybe your eyes were always the shape of tears I could never cry. Maybe my hands never knew the meaning of fragile when I placed your lips on the horizon, maybe your ribs always constricted silence into an enigma that’s always moving in the direction of closing. Loneliness will always fight you for me, sadness will always hug the corners in bitter remembrance of a protagonist that was zealous for an embrace. And though I have seen better days with my hands, laughed stories I want to hear with the sun. I have sipped posture from dandelion wishes and fermented the future in a single blink. Today, I know I won’t survive another you.