Immy

at the end of every book
there’s a door
which
should you choose to enter
will take you 
to distant ports
and pirate ships
or golden temples
with marble gods
where chapters will enchant you
and pages

orange blossom
racing thoughts of you
are all that fill my mind
none other could be so sweet

A million worlds
Built from your words
Caverns filled with promises

Don't lie and tell me that 
Even without sparks
Fires can burn

Growth is something your
Hands cannot force upon me 

flowery wings bat at my cheeks
leaving gaping paper cuts
spilling blood down my face
where it drips down and pools
in the dip where my collarbone meets my shoulder
a birdbath
for these paper birds

 

my shoes are filled with flowers
and my eyes reflect the stars
but my arms are sore from reaching
and bruises mar my heart
 

i love to talk about the scar on my forehead
it’s a small crescent indent right in between my eyes
and if you ask what it’s from
i’d love to tell you that
i got it when my brother flung my head against a table corner