My mother said I needed to know of gentle loving. I’ve been all nails and teeth for half of my life. And when I like something I pull it apart turn it into small pieces I can craddle in my hands, but I’ve always had the habit of throwing it aside. So mom said ‘when you see shattered bones and raw meat stop. Broken people become hemophiliac, you will catch yourself with blood in your hands and even parts of you where it isn’t suppoused to stain’. So I think what she really meant was to look out for the one who would walk in and tore down the walls. I see pieces of you scattered all over the world, and do you recall how God told Adam he was dust? I think God meant we fall apart and our particles fill up the air and the wind takes us to places we had never even seen. Okay but look, the water is also everywhere. Like did you know oxygen is dry so when you have trouble with breathing they pass the oxygen through water so that your lungs don’t collapse? And everywhere in my room is humid my sister keeps telling me to open the windows but it just doesn’t go away. My cat purrs at the sound of my voice and I wonder if in Taiwan a girl got brokenhearted. And I wonder why we call it ‘brokenheart’ wouldn’t it fit better call it ‘burnthearted, stomphearted, death?’ Who knows. I read on the newspaper a woman in China spent a week in a restaurant after being dumped and the picture was sad, her hair got greasy and I wonder if it is smart of me to let love take my heart. But look, I have been chasing after for long enough and my knees never were good for running, I lack the coordination to do two things at once. And mom keeps on reminding to be softer. She doesn’t know I met you, okay maybe she does but she cannot put together how I became this mess. I’ve been coughing out pieces of cotton and my insides are tangled. Did you know the female body has the ability of rearrenging the organs for when there’s a baby inside. But sometimes I think this ability was given for us to use all the time. Like when someone makes our fingertips burn without touching and then it feels like in my stomach a falcon unfurled its wings and it keeps pecking at my lungs. I wonder how I havent died of shock, you know they aid you when your body is in shock because it could die if it doesn’t come out of it? And maybe in the morning I will not get that shot and breathe again. And all along while thinking of million different things to compare falling for someone. I kept asking to have my heart given back, but my bones are laughing at me and say that I wasn’t made with the requirements to run. And the last time mom said ‘be soft’ I smiled at her and said “I’m nothing but.” And I keep seeing how lungs do nothing but breathe out our desires and hearts eat themselves and inside the bodies of many people there’s probably a crime scene while ‘love’ rubs its hands and laughs every morning at the vision of us all not breathing
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