Burn After Reading

I’d sing you love songs, in notes sharper than the blade you use to cut yourself

Carve out more places where they couldn’t stay

I’d build monuments out of the curve of your smile

You are happiness

I’d build altars out of your bruises

Break out midnight feasts and see what they couldn’t destroy

Gentle breeze

You are sacred even in your pain

I’ll write poetry on the scars on your back from carrying men who made a battlefield out of you

I’ll write poetry on your lips, for all the times you’ve been told to smile when your whole being was breaking down

You are heaven

You are a heart’s fulfillment

I’ll write poetry on the lids of your eyes

You have nothing to be ashamed of