I ran away thinking I could give up on us,
but in my hotel room I found the nicest shower.
The room was all covered in mirrors.
I thought of the damage we could do to each other in it.
I saw my body and I wondered why I didn’t have more scars.
I counted my freckles.
I remember you saying the best contact was skin-to-skin.
You looked at me like I was something worthy of reverence.
Rachel sat on the blanket and told me no one was ever really nice to her.
It made me very sad. I watched embers and waited for them to hit my ankles.
I still think I would have tried to stop your dreams had that been an option.
I used to wish I was a villain or something crazy like that.
I’m not a villain. I might still be crazy. When I get really scared,
I think about you asking me where you should kiss next.
I think your shadow is sewn to mine.
I don’t mean to hurt anyone, but actually, I do mean to.
The shower is too small and I am standing almost skin-to-skin.
I am remembering when I was worthy of reverence.
I don’t believe in fairies, Peter, and I don’t care if saying that kills them.
I don’t believe in anything, anymore.