Purple Rain Through the Window

Fall into me like I am blurry and let me catch you like you are drowning. Drowning in me, drowning in you, the love of my all sits cross legged, drawing the children we will not love each other long enough to give life to. You call me a dreamer like it is a bad thing. When my face falls stitch-less and I don’t say a thing, but I find myself rotten, you apologize my pressing the shape of your cool palms into the hollow of my back. It’s been a while since we’ve told each other anything. It’s been a while since I’ve seen shore. The love of my all braids my hair and contorts the pattern of my soul just as she alters my scalp. Having a brain is like having a monster living inside your head and ripping apart all that used to make you good. Having a brain is like not knowing you have a brain and not knowing who else has a brain, and when you find yourself questioning who has a brain and opening yourself to anyone, that is when you know you have a brain. That is when you know that you are hexed. A witch breaks through my window but I am too busy looking at you. "Look back, there’s a witch!" you go pale, "Turn around, we’re being robbed!" Lovesick and stupid, I say, "baby I can’t be robbed enough until my heart is ripped straight out of my lovesick stupid body," and you just pale some more. The creature grabs you and you are barely breathing. The devil checks your pulse over my shoulder, and I just keep lying to myself.