burned-astra

dreamers #brbchasingdreams

What’s the trait you value most about yourself?

I read. People leave me, and I do not immediately replace them. I burn through books instead.

I read. People don't care about me enough to leave, so I burn the bridge myself and I wait for my blisters to heal while stacking dozens of books in my nightstand. Not by catapulting myself to anyone who will have me, or offer a shoulder to cry on, an ear, arms, or something else entirely...

I read. They stab me and tell me it is my fault, and I go under the covers and hug a ghost hand, writing the same experience 300 years ago.

I write. They tell me who I am, but I do not listen. Instead, I write. I read enough to be filled with ink, but not thoughts. I write.

16 september. 7:30

Clean. Back straight. Sat across from me

in our café, but could be anywhere:

edge of my bed, beach, bar, train.

Clean, sharp stare, & I come apart

at the seams. No, not like that:

my edges blur and disintegrate.

The body, that is, my heartstrings

loop around him, as I wring my rag

of a heart for this man,

clean. I repeat. I shake out

coins from my piggy bank

mind, I hand him the blank

paper of my ribcage memories.

Here, a pen (rewrite me). A key.

If the world insists to be a prison, I

at least pick my guard (what

a word; what is he protecting

me from?) my protector. I mean,

god. he is still staring & I am

vapor and rope. He knows.

He knows everything. I ask him:

Should we watch another episode later?