i think this is where i'm supposed to be. in
your [beautiful] arms and hopefully,
in your [beautiful] heart because
god knows, you're in mine.
you are the safety pins holding
together scattered scraps of dirty
cloth and stale memories. you
are the screen for projections
of the past.
this will last, because you
have my face in your gilded hands
and comfort in your silver-lining eyes.
you are the opposite of an opposite,
anarchy in its purest, most
mindless form and you've trapped
me in your dreamcatcher web of
sticky words and well-oiled smiles.
[there's no pleasing a nightmare.]