work in progress.
you are my sunshine, my only sunshine. you make me happy when skies are grey. youll never know, dear, how much i love you. please dont take my sunshine away.
i hate you in the way you hate the sun when you have forgotten your sunglasses
but miss it during the winter.
your skin brings me warmth unsurpassed by any other
but leaves me feeling cold before we ever part.
at least the suns warmth remains for the duration of its stay.
you are similar to the sun, though-
like basking without sunblock guarantees burns,
seeing you guarantees scars.
i know both will occur beforehand but i leave unprotected anyway,
hoping that perhaps today my skin will be thicker,
more resilient.
im never surprised except by how red my pale skin can become from
one mistake.
the contrast is always a bit shocking.
i have never hated being pale as much as i do when the mirror reminds me of how much red contrasts with it.
a mirage of memories plays out in the mirror,
the stark contrast managing to bleed together.
the sun is gone now,
it is night,
and it is dark, as night so often is.
you are no longer the sun, surrounding me with heat.
you have become a creature of the night,
darkened by substance
and drunken with desire;
you know nothing of warmth.
your mind has become frigid,
your body hard,
your actions set in stone before you ever do them because
your mind will not allow you to see how much you are making me fear the light.
it can no longer be trusted.
it will always give way to shadows
as warmth gives way to burns.
you do not know that after tonight
i will cringe away from touch meant to comfort.
that i will eventually run out of sad songs like youve run out of warmth-
theyre still there,
but none of them speak to me anymore.
they offer no comfort when i cry.
instead, they leave me feeling hollow inside
as though “the stars are aligned” cut to my core
and scooped out my self worth
leaving me empty
but weighted down.
it takes hours for me to fall asleep now because i cant stop shaking.
part of it is because i cant catch my breath
long enough to forget that
i chew holes in the insides of my lips
as a constant reminder of the parts of me you wanted to touch.
part of it is because i am cold.
