N.B. for friendships you’re not sure of
that you and people like me go hand in hand.
i am a child by definition,
my eyes wet from staring at the moon.
and i haven’t much to say to you, you are a friend
so naturally, kiss me if you have a minute to spare.
my fear comes from thinking i’ll be 14
wearing lipgloss, thinking i had a chance at ruling the world again
the things I want to tell you
are sunken just beneath my ribs,
but not quite close enough to my heart.
i admit i am a wretch with no emotion for you
i want to tell you now that no good can come of me
and you will have to smile your way through that
pretend you have some sort of laugh
as you taste my guts,
spilling all the secrets.
i want to tell you that i am a daughter
of people that have hollowed out their backs
for each other, who would believe i’d ever have any talent?
who would ever really know me?
i want to tell you
i’m not interested in the whys and wherefores
but for you to discuss your soul with me
over granola and yoghurt
or pizza, if you’d prefer.
my eyes are wet from staring at the computer screen.
believe me i have nothing to give.
question all others, they have stripped all of me away.
this is half 3 in the morning
our midday maybe.
you are a friend of stranger innards
cut from similar pained organs
only interested in licking the stars dry.
we will wipe each other’s tears from our cheeks
if there are any to shed.
or just pretend we can cry, somewhere on a roof, young and alive.