Worn

The skin of my knee covered by frayed threads,
Barely hanging on.
You’ve left me hanging for months,
The occasional taste of you,
Keeping the edges of these wounds closed.

Earthquake

I want you to rock my body,
The way an earthquake would rock the earth,
If every single tectonic plate moved at once.
Map out fault lines on my skin with your finger tips.

Jacket

I had wrapped his body around me like a jacket,
Hoping I could pretend his warmth was the heat radiating off your skin.

Anatomy of him

Tracing shapes on my skin,
Carving memories into my body.
The most beautiful kind of scars.

Accelerate

Trees and grass and sky,
Running together,
Then fading away.
I’m out of control.

Hand-me-down

Sometimes,
I tell you I love you,
Even though I know you can’t hear me.
I whisper it into the hood of your jacket,
Wrapped around me as I’m laying in bed alone.

Signs

Sometimes I wish I could stop loving you, The way my feelings have faded for others, Like the sight of your car disappearing down the street After another too-short visit. I feel like I’ve loved you for years, Despite the calendar screaming, “It’s only been a few months.” Sometimes I wish I could separate the […]