“I Left a Note in Your Pocket at Midnight”
I’ll drink in the taste of your lips like red wine at midnight. I’ll trace out the constellations on porcelain skin, mapping out the stars until I find the one right above your heart. Lead me back home, tuck me in with stardust kisses and devour me with the black hole of your eyes. I’m an abandoned astronaut with such little oxygen left- floating in the cosmos of my own sins. They tell me I’m the holiest place they’ve ever been, but how do I tell them they’ve never ventured inside? I’m nothing but tattered ruins overrun by regret. You deserve to be worshiped, someone down on bloody knees begging for you to realize how marvelous you are. You’re a goddess, your body a holy ground and your lips the only place I wish to whisper my confessions. There’s something intoxicating about you; I can’t figure out just what it is that draws me in. My heart begging me to devote myself and dive in for a fix. Maybe it’s your eyes, the way they strike like lightning. Leaving me gasping for breath, a body marred with the tell-tale signs of what it was like loving someone who was there one moment and gone the next. I’ll run my fingers along marks you don’t deserve- along marks that wish to taint the only holy place I know. You deserve so much more than vacant stares and empty smiles. I’ll break open the book of your soul that you have tried so hard to keep secret, a fable in everyone’s minds. I knew it existed, a girl like you has stories to tell. I’ll devote myself to these pages and your lips until I am nothing but a changed man who can only speak in proverbs. You deserve the truth. The fact that my lips have ghosted over yours when we were only balls of energy waiting for the Big Bang. They never told us that we caused the creation of an entire galaxy and then some. You feel like you take life, but in reality you’re the one who knows the hushed tones of creation. I never believed in soulmates until I realized why I always felt so empty. I heard the symphony in the bitterness of your laughter- the calming of E-minor and I understood what my mom meant when I was eight. She told me if sadness ever riddled my bones, finding you would feel the same way a bad dream does. I’d feel like I was tumbling down the spine of an old book, pages falling apart and slicing open my skin. She never mentioned that seeing you smile would be all I need to feel like it was worth the pain.
