When you peeled back my heart like a clementine you found that there were enough seeds to grow an orchard, but like the rest you spit them out and smiled at me without any teeth.
I dreamt you had the hands of my last love, and when I woke, I was treading water.
Consume the world or let the world consume you, but you’ll never find an in-between, not when you’re not here with me.
This is the reason, though I never said, that I was always so sad:
Nobody notices the seasons between seasons, no one sees how the moon swings across the sky each night.
It’s always A to B, this to that, always a rush to get to another place where we don’t belong, instead of stopping one more time to pick a daffodil off the side of the road.
You changed from reds to orange to a bare-boned winter, all while I held your hand in my own, but I said nothing, only watched as you looked at yourself and saw just the same pale shade of you.
There are those who wade through seas while other down them on the rocks.
The last rain caught me with my back against the pavement.
Laying there with my mouth agape, a cut on my thigh from hypocrisy, I couldn’t tell if I was bleeding into the sky or if the sky was bleeding into me, couldn’t tell if it was I who consumed the world, or if it was the world that consumed me.
