TheCourtRose

The arguments we didn't have are inside the pockets of your jacket Jangling about, fingering them idly during restless moments, the change and bubblegum wrappers of a hundred bitten tongues and swallowed rebukes I borrowed it for a time, a shelter against the temporary cold Smells lingering in the threads reach my nose, mixing memory and mind A gentle weave against the fraying seams of time All the what-ifs are buttons, first open, then close, first fast, then slow A back and forth Dr. Seuss collage of putting it on and taking it off once more   The jacket is on the chair in the kitchen, right where you can find it The one place in the city where our lives have yet to overlap

Time to stand down though the night is raw with sound Cannot guard the sleep of others for eternity, nor protect them from the truth, though you tried Rest now, lay your weapon gently upon the earth, for what has she done but feel your anxious boots cut into her flesh with pacing Be soft with her, as you've never been with yourself Lay that tired skin against her breast and breathe for a little while The night is insidious, a yawning void brimming with missing whispers, voices you've stood vigil against from the beginning Let the whispers float through air and into the ears of their owners It was never a war you could win, never your right to interfere Lay back down against the earth, cradle yourself there as your own whispers rain down Breath deep of the mud, and dirt, and heavenly soot It is the only thing left now that your vigil is done

My headstone will read "She died doing the right thing" alongside Harry Dresden (Although, to be fair,  sharing a grave near or with Harry Dresden would be joy enough to kill me if I wasn't already dead) if all the right thing does is cause cascading anxiety and bouts of disordered eating So, even if it doesn't kill you out right, you're miserable until the end I love you, I really, really love you (And by love you, I mean I'll give you everything, including my dignity, time, and the tattooed skin it comes in, because that's childhood training, baby!) but I'm gonna save myself instead, one little shiny mosaic piece at a time I get it, it's all uphill (Life is uphill and Sisyphus is tired) but I'm sick of protecting you from yourself, you see Gonna put on these big-girl knickers, leave you to your own devices, and walk these wobbling knees onward I'm grateful for you, and you know it 'cause I make damn sure to

Wrote names in soap on the bathroom tiled wall and said a prayer for each one Happiness, health, abundance in careful cursive, written into each curve How much love, desire- what vertebrae to break, indignity to swallow, what spells to cast- for a guarantee of their contentment Instead, I kiss my watery hand, wipe away the letters, hoping that as I let each name go, there will be room now for the lives we all dreamed of

You said I taste like a caramel apple and as much as I have learned to abhor them, suddenly I smile Yes, of course! I can get down with that (and you did get down with that, which is why we're here) because I'm sweet, but I'm sharp My skin is thin, but my flesh goes deep I will nurture you and be the forbidden treat you crave in the dark Instead of making jokes about apple pie, (although the situation begs for it) you can eat a caramel apple and think of me, and I can eat a caramel apple and think of you, thinking of me Wondering how who I am between my thighs, against your lips and beneath the sheets, can be so much closer to who I really am