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Description
you breathe in, and I breathe out, because that's how it works.
you always told me, don't worry my dear,
because you just need to whisper back to me
all the things ive whispered to you.

on seaward nights, where the salt sticks to your skin and makes it white
and rough, like a decayed ghost without a sound to sell -
and maybe then, I can murmur those things you've taught me so well,
when you bite my hips
and leave marks for years to come,
and teach my bird hollow bones to fall
(but only to fall.)

there are weapons in your words.
and there are daggers in men's smiles;
but sometimes you’ve got to be cut to a million pieces -
those shiny metal teeth, the glint in your mouth
hover over the gloss of your tongue and vermilion lips
a gash in your face, deadly sweet like snow white's apple -
before you can recognise which smiles are daggers,
and which smiles are gold and silver and love.

you kiss my lids
and slit open my eyes
to let my soul breathe sometimes.
sew up my mouth so I don’t scream,
burn me at the stake.
I am a martyr for my own lost cause,
wrapped up in gasoline lies
and jacked up on unspoken promises and susurrus silence.

there are lines drawn across my lungs.
they lead you right and let you crush my heart,
and you breathe in, and I breathe out.

Description
you breathe in, and I breathe out, because that's how it works.
you always told me, don't worry my dear,
because you just need to whisper back to me
all the things ive whispered to you.

on seaward nights, where the salt sticks to your skin and makes it white
and rough, like a decayed ghost without a sound to sell -
and maybe then, I can murmur those things you've taught me so well,
when you bite my hips
and leave marks for years to come,
and teach my bird hollow bones to fall
(but only to fall.)

there are weapons in your words.
and there are daggers in men's smiles;
but sometimes you’ve got to be cut to a million pieces -
those shiny metal teeth, the glint in your mouth
hover over the gloss of your tongue and vermilion lips
a gash in your face, deadly sweet like snow white's apple -
before you can recognise which smiles are daggers,
and which smiles are gold and silver and love.

you kiss my lids
and slit open my eyes
to let my soul breathe sometimes.
sew up my mouth so I don’t scream,
burn me at the stake.
I am a martyr for my own lost cause,
wrapped up in gasoline lies
and jacked up on unspoken promises and susurrus silence.

there are lines drawn across my lungs.
they lead you right and let you crush my heart,
and you breathe in, and I breathe out.