my bones are too close together, i
rattle myself. the divots and fractures
are spreading outward, and i grimace
with every step. you are in me,
small deposits of hope and regret.
i can't tell if you're a tumor or my healer.
love makes everything brighter,
everything harder to see. love made
a victor of you and a ruin of me.
so i step gingerly underneath time, in-
between dreams, carrying all that i thought would be
in tingling arms. i have to let go sometime.
this won't do forever.
but giving it up feels like giving up,
and i don't like that. so i readjust my grip,
hug it all a little closer, keeping the bulk of my brokenness be-
tween me and the world, me and you, me and my own hands.
it's no longer you hurting me, it's me.
and i don't like that.
so i'm going to let go and see if my arms know
how to be free, how to hang loosely at these bruised sides.
and with ghostly outlines of you in my mind,
these bones will mend. oh god, let them mend.
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