the hunt for love brings no rewards but many casualties,
i think, not for the first time
over the kitchen sink.
this morning i was relieved to find some
semblance of my repentance,
and so much of romance is in remembrance,
or at least what i know of it,
and love is always so all-consuming,
even when i am all alone.
i reach for a new life, and
you reach for another drink
your hands found me first along the way.
on nights like these a new hurricane births itself
in this house,
so i keep my silence, and
you keep the rein on your anger, and together
we keep this porcelain peace between us.
what’s the use of a moral compass that always punishes,
what’s the use of an hourglass that’s always out of time.
what’s the use of a youth that refuses to stay,
of a love that refuses to be known.
what’s the use of hands that do nothing but despair
then make poetry out of it,
what’s the use of these hands
without yours to hold.
god gave me the wrong body parts, i think,
he made the wrong girl.
he made a forest fire,
and gave it a name.
— partially inspired by the short film ‘all too well’ (2021), dir. taylor swift
