You’re growing bored of me

I can feel it,

Pushing a needle through my skin

It rests in between the tissue connecting my neck and shoulders

The metal touches my bones, aching from the outside in

Watching my eyes water and puddle and glass

But never quite break over

Fear has wonderful comedic timing

It takes my face into its palms

Until my cheeks spill over

and my mouth is contorted into a faux grin

Smiling it opens its jaw

Smiling back in stupidity,

My arms lay limp by my side

Love is the worst dancer at a beauty pageant

Tripping over, spilling out

Grabbing your hand in mine

Stumbling so free in the air

breathing white air while my pores open up letting

sweat pouring through 

Sticking my hand to yours

Even in the chill of the air

and the salt on the ground

Anger burns faster than desert wood 

Christmas is now a secular holiday

and glass ornaments must be hung at the

bottom of the tree,

to prevent breaking

They are so delicate

Refracting the light of the fire

Into the eyes of the unwitting, blinding the 

casual observer

Beauty is a gas

Spreading to the size of the room

With no fixed volume or shape

It fills molds well but, 

constantly in motion

the particles are still Shakespeare’s 

Sending me 

Smiling 

Tumbling

Fragile

Over the edge

As I watch your back