Being with you

and not touching your skin

must, surely, have its mention

in the nine circles of hell. 

Molly Anne Barrett

I tried, but the glare stung my eyes.

You loved me like a prayer, 

rather than an answer. 

You loved me like waiting for the dawn

in the depths of night. 

You watched the horizon for the sleepy sun,

always waiting the the light, 

always waiting for inspiration,

always waiting.

You never thought for one minute

that I reveled in the darkness,

that I had the blood of moon goddesses

running in my veins. 

You denied the shadows in my eyes

and dragged me into the daylight, 

expecting me to take the sun out of the sky 

and place her into your chest. 

You wanted me to fill you up.

You loved me like a prayer,

but darling, 

it was the wrong God.

Molly Anne Barrett

I slip into a quiet contentedness,

knowing that I loved my hardest,

and I loved my softest. 

I am still breathing your name, 

but breathing nonetheless. 

Molly Anne Barrett

With you, it was such a sweet silence. A delicate, sweet silence.

A rise of the chest spoke more parables than the holy book, and when it fell, it fell and fell and carried on falling. Your chest fell so hard, so deep, I thought it would never rise again.

But you did.

With you, it was such a rich longing. A delicious, rich longing.

A moment in your eyes felt like walking in and out of the valley of death, with nothing but the delicate perfume of petals and gentle sun kissed cheeks as proof. Your flames scorched my skin, but they painted me gold.

You always glowed.

With you, it was such an aching missing. A quiet, aching missing.

I hear your laughter in the storms of winter. Give me any plague, and I’d hear your laughter echoing in the destruction. Your joy sung the melodies of truth, rash and radiant, broken and content.

I never heard you sing.

But you played the chords of my god, you set me alight. 

Molly Anne Barrett

I gave you all my light.

I no longer have a streetlamp haze in my eyes

or fireworks in my heart.

I gave you all my light, 

and I just pray

that its showing you the way home. 

Molly Anne Barrett

Last night I left early because the man at the bar in front of me had the same back as you. The same back as you. I came home home and thought of every part of your body I never kissed, until four in the morning. I fell asleep with your fading arms wrapped around me, I’ve been forgetting my dreams recently. I see you enough in waking hours, I don’t need night visions of you as well. I thought about your back all day. I thought about how I never held it tight enough, I remembered how you held mine so tenderly. 

You broke so many forevers. 

I made so many forevers trying to replace the one you could never give me. Your spine was never strong enough for words that big.

I thought about your back all day, the soft skin stretched perfectly across your shoulder blades. I should have kissed them but I was too scared. Too scared that under that magical kiss, wings would burst out and you would forget that I was the one that gave you flight. But then again, I’m no princess. You’re the one that kissed me into flight. 

I thought about your back all day, and your spine like broken stones stacked in an ancient monument. I felt the weight they carried and ran my fingers along the cracks, 

how I wish I’d kissed them better. 

Molly Anne Barrett

How do I explain that my scars

are simply markings of time, 

markings of the 

months,

weeks 

and days 

of empty kisses, 

empty beds 

and empty promises 

it took me, 

to get to you?

Molly Anne Barrett

You broke so many forevers. 

I made so many forevers trying to replace the one you could never give me. Your spine was never strong enough for words that big. 

Molly Anne Barrett

You were such a sweet blossom of ignorance, how can I blame you?

You said no promises, and it was my foolish heart that accused you of breaking them, how can I blame you?

You were a blunder, a child, a try, and a fail. How can I blame you?

You were amazed at how my hair grew. The first time we wrapped ourselves in each other’s bodies, my hair was a result of blunt scissors and an insatiable need to escape. When we said love for the first time and goodbye for the last, my hair covered the parts of my body you were too broken to caress. A waiting, a growing, a patience, a waiting. My hair tells our story better than I ever could. 

Molly Anne Barrett

Sometimes I am so full of sadness, all I can smell is your skin.

Molly Anne Barrett