lovers and paper cuts

these bandages suffocate my fingers so they're stuck between my teeth

and i can't figure out how the blood's falling like snowflakes collecting like

stars on my bed; poetry doesn't quite make sense. & when confessions

come out as his arms wrap around me in the form of, i write gay poetries,

his silence slaps me worse than a i don't know what to say. for the silver

lining tucked between the folds i believed we were with saving and we'd

be okay; but blessings are tragedies that are still falling. when we met, i

was falling just while he was breathing & knew there was something more

to the brown eyes with damaged dreaming. i know the name, i told him

glancing at the facade he was playing (his bluff was alluring), not the face.

& he hasn't held his father's pride in a long, long time. so when he realized

his girlfriend would break him one last time, he gave in to the thorns pricking

his skin when he went picking back in '14 when he still believed in trying,

as if anything would amount to everything. youth isn't fickle, it's how you

view that's spinning faster than the world. please don't leave me, that's when

i realize i'm begging because even though he's breaking i'm shattering and

losing my favorite lover is more threatening than the scraping of a dagger

against the throat when death says it's time to go. & he just holds me close,

i think he knows, the words i love you too much are tongue dipped and acid,

but for the second, i don't care. because i love him too. so we danced along

the line of insanity and toxicity because lovers are the best and worst of the

paper cuts along our hearts; as for the life we're living. he's the best of me &

the worst part of my unbecoming but for the sake of my youthful being trapping

my old soul, we'll be okay for now. we'll be worth saving.