I stare into space, eyes crossed like lovers that just missed each other, like whispers in the night that never get you there, other than to the destination of a thought that was never yours. A tremble up your back.
I look behind me, a trail of pain and beauty, but then wonder why am I so ugly.
Please hug it away. Let it drop from my temple to the pit of my stomach. Remove its grips from my neck. Sacrifice the things unsaid. Because we have cast enough spells of intention, thoughts desperately grasp at to make a sense of their own and we end up cursed.
Let there be more of me to fill every hollow space that serves as a hiding space for these things, so I can love you more.