You want to know how I got these scars?
I ripped every last piece of you out of my smile.
I dipped my hands in forever,
touched you infinity,
saved you as if you were the last molecule of oxygen inside of a gas chamber.
I was good to you.
I opened my arms,
asking for warmth but all you gave me was longing.
I wish you were good to me.
If I could,
I would tie your arms to a daydream and then auction you off to my fondest memories.
I'll just keep you here,
shackled to the most important chapter of my life story,
pressed into the basement of my eyelids,
so I remember you
mesmerising,
with amazing underneath your wings,
dreamy eyes
and an orchid smile.
You gorgeous earthquake.
You cracked hourglass with sand spilling from behind your ribs.
You wasted my time.
How dare you linger on my lips then kiss me like a stuttering apology with excuses stapled to the roof of your mouth!
I still remember you like a dream,
tattooed to the inner walls of a long-term memory but some days,
I wonder if you existed at all.
And of course,
you want to know how I got
these scars.
Fine.
I'll tell you.
I got these scars the day that I fell in love with you.
I landed face first.
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