our bodies are made of flint and we burned holes in our hearts with 2am matchsticks
your head is full of rainfall, and there are tsunami tides in your eyes
for a boy once told you that you were the moon
and you gave him the universe and all that you are
but he held many hearts within his own, and yours is made of eggshells
but he's still beautiful to you even if staring at him
seeps the moonlight from your empty clavicles
because he makes you forget the concept of breathing
your heart is a hurricane-prone area
and when he leaves, the glass breaks, things shatter —
and you become a different person altogether
you spend time looking for answers to questions you didn't know you were asking
you find solace by the sea
letting the tides wash over your feet, but you never forget
even if you do, your body doesn't — for there are scars on your knees and calluses on your thumbs: you've fallen but you don't know how to get back up
you bite the hands of those who help
months pass, seasons come and go
and you still don't know why
there's jealousy festering inside of you — even 140 characters are enough to break you
for you still want to be held by those very hands that once strangled you
you want to be touched by those very fingers that could leave bruises on the insides of your thighs
you want to recreate the past but you must understand that you are a season that passes and never returns
and your heart is a patchwork quilt of people that leave different shades of blue inside of you
be careful with who you choose to make memories with,
these things last a lifetime
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