Never fall in love with an artist.
They’ll memorize the way you brush your teeth
And how many steps it took you to walk away from them;
How many less it takes you to walk directly back.
We won’t destroy your skin like any normal person
Or leave your cheeks tear stained and burning-
We devour from the inside out,
Love so deeply and so quickly.
Knead poems into every layer of your body
Place them there permanently as to never leave.
But we will leave.
Some of us, like me,
Can only write while sadness is welded to our ribcage.
To love, for us, is to hate.
We could spend hours counting every hair on your head
Every blemish on your body,
Kiss the cracks in your skull back together.
For us, though, you are only an object of inspiration-
A poem we’ve put delicately together
Awaiting words to write themselves into you.
We see you how we want to see you.
Kisses are stanzas
Memorized perfectly and hungrily
Photos of sheets wrapped around your soul in our minds.
We are tornadoes.
We are hurricanes.
We are any natural disaster perched on the edge of time
Just waiting to rush into your bones all at once.
We fall in love easily, briefly, passionately.
With the way you laugh too loud when you’re nervous,
Or the way your teeth set on your bottom lip when you’re not at all happy to smile.
We’ll fall in love with the way you pick up your fork to eat your breakfast,
How loudly you stomp down the hallway,
And the bags digging trenches beneath your eyes when you’re stressed.
And we will hate you for every single idiosyncrasy that we love.
We will hate the way that our ink spills only for you,
Always for you.
You will be bottomless for us,
Drowning us out of nowhere.
We will bury ourselves in our pencils and pens
Lie in bed for days on end,
Lined papers scattered around us.
We have written you into something,
And you will memorize how many steps it took for us to walk away,
Memorize how many hours it’s been since your realized that we’re much too far to memorize how many steps it would take for us to walk directly back,
If ever we decide to whisper writings of you again.