space between

a poem (escapril day eleven)

you have dirt underneath your fingernails again and oh shit, so do i.

there’s something dead under the sink, i think, but there’s a high chance it’s me - mucus covered and bloody. 

and just because we kill moonlit and pure, doesn’t mean we’re cleansed of our sins. 

the stars know our faults, whole and morbid, but they’re just clusters of heat and light, so how accountable can we be held? right?

light a match and hold it up close, i want to see what i’d ignored. 

because if i’m so undeserving, i think you are too.

still, i have love pouring out of me from the point which you expelled the blade but its rotten, rancid. 

and it’s all i have left.

i can fill the spaces between us with smoke stained kisses.

place cement where i shouldn’t.

there’s the space between your two front teeth

and the space between your tongue and mine.

the space between your lips as they part just to lie.

the space between

i.

love.

you.

and we mustn’t forget, the space between where i beg for forgiveness and you grant it upon yourself.