they say
when someone cries
you can feel it in your heart.
they’re lying
I feel it everywhere.
I live in shadows
when your face is too red
to turn on the light.
my core catches red
when you catch my eye.
my legs feel you stumbling.
this book is filled with words
you have forgotten writing
in the hours that belong to
liquid escape,
my fingers finding a dance floor on yours,
half-awake second chances.
maybe that’s why
I don’t make it easy to open.
I swear I don’t just feel it in my chest when you leave,
it’s like something in my bones
has been rebuilt
they remember your kiss as
not just a now
but a memory
a tomorrow,
I am tearing apart
skin that has turned to glass
I am crumbling.
lemons and oxygen
kickstart my brain,
swing it in circles
but I can’t let it out
through a skull already cracked.
they say
when the seasons change
when the ground shakes
you can feel it in your heart.
but isn’t a heart all of you?