the stars do not care about
what you have to say to me;
I’m sorry darling, I’m
sorry I let you down
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
so laugh then,
and try not to fall in love
with the demons that live behind your
closed eyelids. it’s easy
to do, believe me.
see what good your apologies
do you then. are you
screaming yet? (if not, don’t worry.
you will be)
now you at least know how I feel.
your fingernails are blue, cut
short. they are not long enough
to claw your way out of these
prison walls. your nails are blue.
the walls are blue. the sky is
blue and I don’t know why
I told you that. maybe because
I have not seen it blue
in a long time. I forgot
that it always used to be blue.
flowers start to grow
through the cement floor.
that doesn’t make sense. no one
is watering them anyway.
I stomp on them, try to
push them back into
the ground. they keep growing.
they are beautiful
and I am tired. you hand them
to me but the
thorns slice through my
skin. I do not bleed. not
anymore. you laugh.
if I’m not bleeding, I’m not
hurting, right?
wrong, wrong, wrong.
it doesn’t matter what I do.
the cuts on my palms will not
heal and the walls are still blue.
your hands are cold, I say.
no, you say, no, no, no
your hands are cold, you say.
you’re right. my hands are cold.
your heart is cold, you say.
you’re right, you’re right.
my heart is cold.