the secret language of crickets

Saturday, November 8, 2008

used to be one of the rotten ones

your voice breaks my chest open like a fortune. i think of you at night and wonder if you've stayed clean and if you are happy and in love. remember when you were my shadow? i kept you close, wrapped around my ankles and wrists. remember when i lost my mind? screaming at things that weren't there, you rested your hand against the nape of my neck. you don't even exist beyond the edges of my heart.
a figment of the worlds imagination. a collective hallucination.
a lonely thief. a cricket on my shoulder. a fuck you can't forget or fight out of your system.
you will be my sweetest downfall, dreaming of empty wine bottles and sleeping in the corners of dark rooms. i drained your only crutch in the sink, set your love on fire on the kitchen floor. we bombed the city as the sun came up.
i met you at a party, in a bar, in central park, on the subway- we whispered and told stories and cut out our spines. we skinned ourselves on someones couch. we cut off all our eyelashes.
tonight my lips are blue and all i can feel are the shadows biting at my wrists and ankles where your fingerprints burned in.

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