like you.

I sit up at night
watching the ceiling
so as not to miss
the end of the world
like you.

I carry stones in my pockets
because I'm too squeamish to cut
but I like to carry my sadness
like you.

I collect old photographs
because I like to imagine
the old worlds in their eyes
like you.

I came into the world
screaming and bloody
like you.

But inside my chest
blinks a vacancy sign
lighting ribs
that would otherwise rest
in a dark calm.

(we only have so long to be beautiful
and I want to share it with you.)