into skies
of
me
that i let your scarred hands (with fingertips lined with supernovas and big bangs of parallel universes and cold spots of pockets of darkness and missing galaxies) mode me
into
who
i am
you never knew
that when i handed you some clay and told you
that it was meant pottery
but all along it was my heart
that you shaped into a masterpiece
terrible
desperate
alive
you turned my hair into strands of vertigo and tied it around my neck and squeezed until i couldn't breathe
until the world was a swirling universe of you
you
you
you you you
youyouyouyouyou
(i love) y-y-y-yyyyyou
your eyes are so dark i wonder how you even see
and i stare
into skies of
strangled stars and nightmares
you are broken darkness
you are the tormented artist
ripping your pottery and paintings into astronomical ruin and hurling them into the sky within you so they would shatter against the darkness
you left without a goodbye
without every knowing that you'd turned my heart into a beautiful mistake
when you thought it was just clay
and i suppose it wouldn't have made a difference if you'd known anyway
- dedicated to my first love
(or was it just an obsession from afar?)