We try to love what cannot be tamed. Wild horses,
vodka in shapely bottles, angry men and the things
they carry. We have done what we could. They say
anything they can to justify leaving. That we are
always sad. That we have let our hearts burn out
for petty things. That we are too fragile. That we are to selfless.
they carry. We have done what we could. They say
anything they can to justify leaving. That we are
always sad. That we have let our hearts burn out
for petty things. That we are too fragile. That we are to selfless.
That we are too dependent.
They accuse us of being too sad to love.
We’re not sure where we’ve learned
this, to want the things we know we can’t have.
this, to want the things we know we can’t have.
Chances are,
we are all the same, riding high on velvet blue nights.
Our weaknesses have names and phone numbers,
addresses we can send letters to,
describing our love and poetry. We are praying for sixteen again,
for clear skin and boys
who asked for permission before holding our hands. They say
they can find us by our cheekbones, that they are
small, miraculous sources of light.
we are all the same, riding high on velvet blue nights.
Our weaknesses have names and phone numbers,
addresses we can send letters to,
describing our love and poetry. We are praying for sixteen again,
for clear skin and boys
who asked for permission before holding our hands. They say
they can find us by our cheekbones, that they are
small, miraculous sources of light.
Sometimes we’re safe
but usually we’re not.
but usually we’re not.
The crime scene tape
should have been our first clue.
should have been our first clue.
