I see you making love to sleep
stuck between your teeth,
waiting for the knowing
that glows into the sheets
as fingers lace inside your bones;
I creep into the cracks,
hoping loneliness will fade
back into the crumpled clothes I killed.

But scuffed knees and elbows remain alone,
dust coating me like winter clothes
in a shade to cover purple baby bruises,
broken bloody knuckles from rapping
at your frame, it's all the same
as the season before,
when you told me I was lemon ripe—
do you remember?

Now I look at you, eyelids dropped
across muddy white stones lodged softly
in your head,
and think of how I am not so beautiful,
less than what you see in her
who prances in your dreams,
so lithe, decisive, more demure
than such as I could be;
but I'll come when she is gone
to hold you in one piece,
you'll see.

I found a pair of angel's wings
nailed roughly to your door,
and they reeked of mediocrity,
wilting by my touch,
feather falling, molting slow,
trickling to the floor beneath your feet,
did you strip away her innocence
so tangibly?

And you're still mumbling to yourself
through clenched jaws,
winding wires through the limbs
of a blinking marionette,
eyes so wide and terrified
by the crippled truths you spat
into her hair
as she was earthbound…
such a tragic comedy.

I wrenched those wings away from where
you clenched them by your heart,
laughed at darkness covering you plight
like safety blankets for our inner children;
then I nailed perfection to my shoulderblades
and soared aloft in bleeding flight.

Take pride— you broke my loyalty.