We’ve never been
very pretty, but we’ve
always known how to
unhinge things: jaw
from skull, heart from
head, fingers from skin.

We are well-versed in
begging ourselves for
mercy, we are far too
used to our pleas being
silenced by some
overpowering promise
underneath our skin.

I have never been one
to keep myself together
by tying stray parts of
me to those watching it
all fall in on itself. I have
grown accustomed to
taking myself apart
before anyone else can.

coming around, Emma Bleker

I will return to a new
home, with the same
family, and houses
down the street that
look nothing like
yours.

I will not sneak out
of that impossibly
loud window to walk
the mile to yours.
I will not knock three
times upon getting
to it. You will not
answer.

You will not call me,
your voice drenched
in drawn out breath,
your tongue wrapped
around each “come
over” as if I was the
disaster you needed
to pull you out of
your own.

I will have nothing
to stay up late for,
but I will stay up
any way, out of
habit or inability to
fall asleep.

I have been having
so much trouble
sleeping, recently.

I will return to an
unfamiliar home
in a familiar city,
some part of me
still wishing that
you will come in
through that window.

The rest of this body
will fight to hold onto
the pieces of me that
know it is best. Sleeping
alone is better than
sleeping in the arms of
boys like you, boys
who only hold onto
others so that they do
not lose sight of
themselves.

i am dreaming of different skin now, but even so, i will expect your voice to crawl from behind my door in the middle of the early morning ~ Emma Bleker