ELOQUENCE OF A BULLET
You tried to kiss me once, so quick to speak of hearts and the human bodies we live in.
I am a force taken by the lacings of passion.
His embodiment of stained drip,
Of cigarettes too tender for our harsh mouths.
I get so lonely when I’m sitting here in my room forgetting to brush my hair.
There is a limit to stories we can tell that are rough on the skin.
He wrapped his spine around my teeth: the most permanent of promise rings.
I get so lonely when the sun chokes me with its light.
I understood why people broke promises- when their battle is over, they peel off their person.
I was so lonely when I was young
And she was so little, placed in his back pocket just like the memories.
I could never find home after you left.
I get so lonely empty of fullness.
My hands are intertwined with your hair, but I never tried to leave.
Is it prison if you like it?
Your body is made of keys but I never learned piano.
I get so lonely when there is no music to be silenced by.
Every disease has been of your god’s desire,
Each strand of your hair had the impact of a bullet.
I thought I was looking for you the whole time but I am slowly becoming an honest person.
I get so lonely because there is never enough silence to listen to.
Your bones creak, but I hear music.
You wrapped your hands around my neck and taught me what honesty felt like.
I sat there exposed
And you stood there not
I have wondered whether it is luckier to be behind a trigger or in front of one.
I thought that I, too, was a bullet but you let me be
We taught each other that we were meant for amazing things.
My masterpiece is the way you look at me.