stanzae:

i want to ask the clock why it’s laughing at me but it can only talk with its hands. i never learned to sign because my fingers are spiders legs. would you let me wrap you in a web if i promised to keep it safe from all the brooms, all the scared children who kick at it with muddy sneakers? i am trying to breathe now. i am trying to breathe now. every strand of hair is a question. i rip chunks from my bloody scalp and you run through nursing homes kissing bald spots. where is my kiss? you must have lost it on the way over here. sometimes it’s hard to make the lips remember what to do.

if my heart cracked my chest open like an eggshell would you take it home and teach it to fly? or would you clip its wings and sell it to someone for dinner? i wish you had known me when i was a miracle. the sky wraps around us like an overcoat and we are too big to fit. there are eyelashes tucked into the pockets. make a wish.