like broken kite strings,
reaching further away,
escaping the empty earth
in your arms.
pouring inky letters,
in runny messes
all over my hands,
feeling bruised by you;
the sting, the slap
as leaking words
drip drip drip
from your mouth,
the broken tap.
I’m so tired of hearing
scratching the back of your throat.
You beg with the croon in your tone,
you play along like the gentle little
a songful, humming love,
all warm in cupped hands.
In all this time,
this achingly long time
I’ve played as your neat little trick;
the showman’s trusty pet,
small dove flying
as soon and only when you release me.
String caught up around my waist,
I’ll never fly too far.
As I walked away,
that night with the moon trailing my form,
and pooling in pillows cradled in my soft footsteps,
you watched my back
stretch lean and tall and
away from you.
You looked back,
it was the moon shifting through my hair,
when I turned to notice
a head shake,
a blink in the empty settling air you left behind.
you leak all those notions I wished you
would one day say,
those heart-melting flatteries,
I’m the only one you want,
to keep you satisfied,
keep you going and touching and loving
and exploring and breaking,
until your other girl comes home.
You ask and plead and return,
lapping and licking in my arms,
wanting my form so bad again;
you cry for all the fun in the world,
but this time, it just can’t.
You’re just my broken tap.
You’d need to stop dripping dirty water one day.
You’d need to stop echoing around me at night,
cradling myself to keep my strength enough
to say no to what I wanted and got for so long.
But you’re just my delicate and lovely broken tap.
I’ll always love you somehow, and feel so dangerous,
intoxicating and breathtaking
as you made me so.
You showed me so.
But I can’t wait for you to cease on your own.
Pull me round with you, wait for you,
tossed like an empty drink because of you.
I just need to let you
let me go.
Like I cried to let you go first.