I.
We ought to call you an ambulance,
my dear; it's my
heart that needs the operation,
but your personality has been amputated
without anaesthetic.

Do you remember the
days where we stood
still and counted the
stars as they shone
redyellowbluewhite?

Those days are gone now,
and we never finished counting
those combusting balls of fire.


I... I...
You're a cancerous tissue,
weaving your way into
lifedeath and hopefear.
Yes, you certainly left your mark.

You ate my heart from the
inside
out.

I always said you belonged to
the sky.

Those disappeared days,
I pointed out our home
in the universe, and I like
to think that's where the
real you has now gone.

But sometimes I wonder if
you were a lie, and
this was your unspoken unspeakable truth.


I-I-I-- (but youyouyou)
Hospitalised,
I mean nothing.
I'm faint, you're faded,
we're long forgotten,
like the whites in my eyes
(red from pain, red from tears,
red from kissing away our years)

The sky opened up and
swallowedyouwhole.

And all that was left was
not you, not me, not us.
All that was left was the
truth.


IVU
Breath held, eyes closed,
tears drowned, heart shelved;
"Starlight, star bright,"
from my ward window,
then I remember it's from
Pinocchio, and he's just a puppet.

(you're someone's real boy now.
so what?)