nao

leave you behind. Left me nowhere. Left me everywhere at once. With myself.
And nothing more to understand, but the tired washed down graffiti. Spray paint. Intoxicating chemicals down my throat. Swallowing glue like it could piece something together if only I brought it there. Watered down metaphor of the construction of a perfect me. Watered down repetitions of the same structure, controlled way of letting me be. Controlled safety. Controlled ways of imagining.
Fitting the pieces of you in an intact inconsumate fairy tale you never realized was oversweet. How unimportant your name became. The syllables that wreaked it. Only meant something once I knew you. I filled those letters with pieces of you. Like you do with everyone you pull shards of glass from, whether they notice or not. Like the stranger picking a torn coffee cup from the street. And finding poems in the stains. Like my love for irony. And the altar constructed for contradictions just so we can find a way to mimic peace.
Or find it. And then lose it. Come again?
Back in the mix. Like cock crack cookie batter telling me all the ways I never paved the street with tears. And the way the chalk had to wait to be washed away by rain. The way I was never the first one. To ask for lightning. Until now.