We were babies swinging from monkey bars,
hanging by our chests and swinging
from our middles, eyes locking on
Fumbling for what was trying to come naturally, but
only as time wore onward would
we learn was only natural for
one of us.
Even when we reached connection, you
pushed as deep as a needle inside of me,
my arms gave out from under me and
We moved independently together,
moths circling the same flame before death,
my right wing caught fire first, your left
burning just as quickly.
I still have burns and scars on my arm,
blisters and boils grow where they touch me.
Staying alone lets me stay with you, pretending
you wanted me.