I’m still thinking I need you to help me stand because God knows my parents never could. And the worst monsters that ravaged the beauty of this world were people once, too. There’s that ceaseless fear tightened around my wings. Soft, hugging skin, arguing in the pleasant dream of warm touch, freezes when we breathe into each other’s presence. When I wake up to a new ceiling I can’t help but think of never again waking to you. There’s a chandelier on that empty ceiling now. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t crash around me and break me like I broke you.