1nce again

it's 96 degrees outside
and you stopped responding to my texts
yes
i get mad
when you don't write me back
i will say some stupid shit like
what the fuck are you fucking doing when you aren't fucking responding me
even though i know you're downstairs
tickling records till they join chuckling bass lines
sometimes
i imagine you're knitting notes and stringing them to symbols
constructing a monument of symphonies
a hidden display of your affection
but i know it's probably to your ex girlfriend
the one you dated 2 years ago for 4 months
and still haven't gotten over
after all
we are just friends

i am not traditional
in the traditional sense
you will learn to hate me for that
you will have to learn to hate me

i am not traditional
after the line-up of ex-boyfriends
i realized
i have never been in love
just lonely
or drunk
or broken
i have always been broken
you will hate me for being broken

i am not traditional
i do not find resolution in you
i find solace
you breathe silence like gunshots
sending volumes of quiet that relax my every muscle
your eyes glow like windows lit up at night
lighthouses

my eyes are cinders
that burn you down to size

i am finding reasons to burn you
you will hate me for burning you

are you okay with that
are you okay with my naked body
with hair in some places
my cellulite
love handles
can you handle the force of my flesh
against a backdrop of megan fox
against facebook photos your ex girlfriend

you know i am not traditional
in the traditional sense

i am not her
i do not wear pastel colors
or drink flavored vodka
i do not suck validation out of dick
i do not come with an off button
i cannot fit in this love triangle you're shoving me into
i do not fit in shapes
i am not beautiful
i will not be your video vixen
or the coffee for your sugar
i will not kiss you after she's spit in your face
i am not her
you will learn to hate me for that
you will have to learn to hate me

i am always at war
ready for battle

we are always at war
i am always losing

i am returning to my fog
when callouses are carved and scurvy takes our bodies
i will still drag tracks of paralysis to the helm
when we'd rather feel water gliding through
the grooves of our fingerprints than the fog
i will still grab for land beyond the horizon my eyes can barely touch
when the lanterns sigh out their last flames
i will still clutch you and ignore passing ports of fortune

after the wars are over
after we've decorated the sea with casualties
and our ships, once magnificent
our pride, once impregnable
are in pieces

i will treat your wounds with moonlight
i will trace the bodies of verses into your back
with my fingertips
plant poetry in between dissenting vertebrae

you will learn to love me
you will have to learn to love me

you will never learn to love me

it's 68 degrees outside
this is the 16th time i've given up on you
the air is thick with what could have been
i learn to breathe accordingly
i will learn to breathe accordingly