his knuckles were white
when they wrapped too tightly
around your wrist

maybe that’s why the first time
your fingers came in contact with
the long line of a cigarette
you fell in love like
smoke-soul artists

your skin turned green in the places
he had been

maybe that’s why you’ve always sort of
wanted to be under the grass
rather than bask on top of it

he bled you out
until you became

(??? i found this in my drafts but i don’t remember writing it ???) // r.i.d (via inkskinned)