Breakdown

fourteen.

I've grown the lips of a fool over my own

Ribbons of ruby filth climbing through

The ruins of stone 

(I think I hid behind them once)

And the ice in my eyes melts now

And flees down my cheek

Warm salty tears running meekly over

Foreign hands

(Don't let it happen again)

Tears that darken freckles onto

Rough and sun-warmed 

Sand that slips away grain by grain

Through my clenched, knuckle-white fist

(Don't let it happen again, the mocking shadows hiss)

I've wanted to love them too many times

To follow through

I've wanted to trust them too many times

To trust

Still on that sandpaper carpet floor

I trusted you, drunk and disappearing

And I think you

Pitied me, curled incoherence

And so many eyes

And they all 

(standing far away, behind the bottle glass)

They all felt too similar to a night before

At another party on another floor so long,

So long before 

I grew this skin of a fool

Before 

I'd taken to breaking 

Every mirror on the wall

That I wouldn't have to watch my eyes fall

When they look deep into themselves