orange rains from the sky like
a wildfire peels at the edges.
the sun melts like a birthday
candle; i catch the drip in a
flower vase. you watch as the
air thickens to a sweet poison,
enough to be ladled into hot
bowls. splattering yourself
cobalt against the sidewalk,
you try to ask the sky to spare
me. the puddle of you on the
ground: the clouds sip it like
fine wine and spit it out. i hold
your nonexistence like a prayer
in between my teeth and breathe
in the vestiges of our past lives.
you weep into the grooves of my
scorched breast bones, tears spilling:
oil slicking the dents of your
sunken cheeks. my stomach bursts
into flames and carves cobalt
butterflies into its blackened walls
as you clutch the ashes of my
shadow to the watery crook of your
lubricated collarbones; your gasoline.
i bake the final remains of my heart
into a clay cup and tell you to pour me
a drink to the brim. my skin burns.
you tell me that you are sorry.
i tell you that there is nothing
to be sorry for. you say that you
should've known. i say that i
wouldn't have had it any other way.
i hate this sm but i had to write. there are so many improvements to be made, but it's too late, so i'll just leave it here.