asphyxia.

i.
sometimes;
when your body gyrates and your hips buck as the music pounds like snake skins over your dewy-skinned appearance
do you think of me?

ii.
i think,
that maybe you loved me once a upon a time,
but that love, like fairy tales
died.
and i was left with nothing but ashes
and the shattered remains of a crystal slipper

iii.
in truth:
i like being empty inside.
because even the thought of being full
makes me so tired that my bones turn to foam
my skin snaps like brittle shale
and energy seeps out of me like life out of a corpse
.
self-actualization never really quite cut it for me.

iv.
at night,
when you see the stars,
they always shine so brightly, twinkle like smiles in the dark
and they’re diamonds in the sky:
beautiful, pale, sculpted out of crystal dew and teardrops and spider webs;
cold, dead, and destined to explode.

if you turned a star inside out,
then you’d see what i look like.

(and i'd be the one that falls out of the sky, not with a brilliant shower of sparks with wishes tagged behind me, but like a lump of coal that dies like a thief when the sun and moon no longer shines.)

goodnight.