blushing I am bruising down to my toes you feel like a mirage you are a breath I took that kept me alive maybe a cough a feeling in my throat that I’m not good enough
at night i count your breaths like sheep, softly next to you i drift to sleep
i wear your disapproval like a brand-new dress, wrap myself up in it like a over-sized sweater with too-long sleeves and unraveling hemlines. it swallows me up, from the tips of my cold toes to the ends of my tangled hair. it covers me, but it doesn’t keep me warm.
i have words that i keep only for you. i have words for your voice in the dark, your pale hands against my collar bones, for your breath and your knees and your dry lips. i wear them loose, on a string around my neck, close enough to touch and kiss and twist beneath my fingertips. do you keep word collections for me, too?