At the end of a movie
You wait for him to turn back
To look at her
To smile
To realize how foolish everything is
She is a sunset
Pushing the weight of the moon and the stars down
Down
Hoping to hold onto this ending
For just a little while longer
She is a bruise
The purple kind on your legs
The type where you don’t even know
How they got there
But here they are
Purple suits you
Purple, like her aura
The color that carries secrets in small denim pockets
Or her father’s arms after blood tests
Or her abuelo’s face as the Parkinson’s screamed for us to let go
I’m still holding on.
Soft cotton sheets
Bright eyes, swallowing the world
Tired, heavy, silent by six
Sitting in the car with him and him
Listening to the outcries of wild youths
In love with complexity and how easy it is to fall from fences when you’re only looking down
I chipped my nail on scotch tape
I chipped my skin washing dishes
I chipped my tooth when I fell on the kitchen table
People think I break my own soul for fun
I don’t
Sometimes it’s so easy to be curious
To crave perfection
That if there is one crack
Then we must start over
Right?
Right?
Right?
Wrong.
My shoes are covered in paint
So I can remember where I’ve been
I often mix up memories with dreams
Forgive me if I feel like I know you
Maybe it really all was a dream
Whether you are real
Or if I am real
I will open you like the forget-me-nots in early spring
And keep you open with broken glass
I am my mother’s nose
My father’s pride
Her exhaustion
His anxiety
Wrapped in white
Topped with untouched Prozac
Waiting
Waiting
My lungs are mosaics of everyone I have met
Open your hands
I promise it won’t hurt
Turn around
Look me in the eye
Remind me who you are
Which piece of glass did I leave in you?
If it’s still jabbing you
You didn’t know me long enough