i am a beautiful and fucking ugly thing

departure of soil

the moon with it’s broken pieces, makes me curl in it’s craters
and wish I am                    wrapped in the sun’s glorious rays
stirring beneath the promise of your brown eyes.

i pray i will never lose your face, to my restless disgrace
most times our connection is the endings of the cigarettes
you smoke                           finding its way into my dreams;

I choke, dry-heave, while i strive to pick apart
from my soiley grave.

and grow in your cupped hands.