I’m Going Back to Sleep

Hot showers in the middle of the night to let
something else burn other than the ghost of
lips scorching my neck, inhale steam to melt
my insides,
water pressure to drown out the crying,

you know a lot of useless crap, so let me test
your medicine,
a bruise is just blood and broken veins trapped
under skin,
just with not enough force to break through,
I’d had the feeling you hit me like a train until I
noticed there was no bleeding,

I want that crash to pull me apart,
ask me why I never go anywhere alone,
ask me if I ever have,
tell me, did my kiss taste like xanax?
Was I too gentle to spit the whole damn bottle
into your mouth?
Or maybe it was to empty,
was the liquor a good enough distraction?
My mouth fills up with blood when I bite my lip
too hard,
how’d you make it taste like love?
Did I happen to flinch away from your touch?
The last thing that danced across that skin was
not as soft as fingertips.

If you ask me why I always grab your hand,
it’s because I’ve never had one to hold,
I’m asking you to know that there are nights
that I don’t sleep and argue with the moon.
There are mornings when the covers like to
wrestle me and mornings where I won’t put up
a fight.
I drink too much caffeine for my own good
my hands don’t only shake from the cold.

I was feeling somewhat poetic until you
flustered every image in my head,
I don’t know how to string letters together
into something beautiful, unless the result is
your name,
so if the color that appears as bruising as blood
that couldn’t break skin,
I hope that we are severed and ignited in
orange flames by the time I kiss you

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