you cracked open my chest
and inscribed love letters on the veins in my heart
they surged throughout my system
charging me with an electric lavender hum
I bled your poetry.
when you left,
I cracked open my own chest,
in desperate fleeting hope of finding the words that once made me feel so undefeatably beautiful;
I found every single love letter you inked in me
return to sender.
I thought you left me last December but it turns out you left me the day you cracked me open;
I was just a storage place for you
a hollowed out empty chest
a place for you to set your pretty
I don’t trust anyone
who sounds like poetry