Eyeliner’s easy til you go to do the other eye.
I am a childhood toy, with my
arms broken off,
kept for so long in nostalgia;
I am your favorite song from high school,
but I don’t quite sound the same
I am a tattered souvenir
shirt from a friend,
buried deep in your closet because
it would be rude to throw me away;
I am a tarnished nickel,
green with corrosion, lost
in the dust between
your bed and the wall, and I
never was worth much to you.
I always pretended to not need gravity
So that you never knew I needed an anchor.
I always claimed I was impervious to cold
So that you never saw my heart was frozen.
I always talked about people we knew
So that you never knew how alone I felt.
I always dedicated myself to music
So that you never learned how I feared the silence.
I always forced on almost-sincere smiles
So that you never believed that I was crying.
I always exalted the fragile things in life
So that you never conceived that I was dying.
Isn’t it incredible?
People are such awful creatures,
that our bones should be hollow and
we should appear malnourished.
But in the right light, we will
fall in love with someone’s cheekbones,
with the contour of someone’s torso,
with the sound of their frail voice rising in the dark.
How beautifully deceptive mankind is.
How terrible—we appear as stunning creations,
but someday we will kill each other.