I wish i could bury you, moth-winged half-faced love-burnt in the sands, and i wish i loved you before we became a sin so ostracised by every god of every religion, i wish youâd love me back, am I so unwanted by warmth that even in its most aggressive form, fire on the matchstick dies out before it touches my fingertips, i wish i could trace the contours of your cheekbone before i found a smirk hiding in your closeted dimple, i wish you werenât a scattered set of embers i wish i could dare to dream of warmth again
I wish i could sculpt the void out of you into something weâd put in our garden, i wish you werenât incapable of loving, i wish you were the gaps between my heartbeat, i wish i could pick out all the satisfying parts of my life like iâm trying to dissect the branches of the facial nerve properly, and slowly slowly the formaldehyde will fill my lungs and i just wish i could stare at you like i did at that old decaying body and youâd let me
I wish i could love you without asking for it in return, i wish i was the chill girl but honestly iâm not and i donât think iâll ever be, i wish i could unearth you from beneath the soilâs sour taste and kiss you and pretend the earthworms arenât there and youâre still the most gorgeous thing in the world, i wish i could keep you alive i wish i didnât have to wish all of this in the first place
