Bent Shattered and Proud

She doesn’t remember what she loved about me so i hold her in my elbows as if she needed someone to save her and i hate that i’ve always believed in things i couldn’t touch tree house ladder i climbed you with the weight you swung into me told the sky glow heartbeat glow strong glow window pane hold me tight with your seatbelt arms i am hammock swing stardust cough xylophone fingers bruise easy rock swing the meaning of yes the language of whales she doesn’t remember what we felt like together she pauses like maybe i won’t see myself in hers bones i shift and the city deserts me deep and indigo sky knuckle down nosebleed i resorted to creating new memories with you by looking at old photographs and pretending i had been in them glove compartment hawk heart i pulled sky captain kite punch like you name me adventure name me skip trunk keys scrape name me stranger like elevator kiss like storm clouds like hummingbird heartbeat i said i like who i am as a person and you pulled away as if my skeleton wasn’t big enough to hold both of us you wore apple core lips like i should never be sad that i spent all this time kissing someone who didn’t want to be kissing me as if i tasted like relief like you wanted to cut me into your esophagus and hush like quiet city like loves becoming a plea bargain like spit me out as a watermelon seed you say lets get married and name all of our children ribcage i pull through her thumb locked and aware of all the times she said apologizing would just sound empty and i whisper i hope if i’m getting old it’s because you make time nonexistent do not cantaloupe smile do not flashlight heart do not risk what you cannot promise on me do not wear me like we are the same size i’m building life with slice wounds on the bottom of me feet deep enough to hide hopes in so i can wear them into the ground how to reach from my heart so you don’t apple adam promises that sound like i never lied to you i want you to teach me to glow heartbeat glow strong glow windowpane with blood in your mouth like you thought climbing trees could teach us to fight distance remember to hold me like you know how to shake remember to keep everything at arms length remember to palm scoop crayfish remember to break me like you know what you cared for about me these are my confessions on a street corner bent shattered and proud I promise to never use words like always refer to you and I in the future tense or reveal wishes before they come true because every person I’ve ever loved has said I was the best thing that ever happened to them when they left me.