What I Wrote At 3 AM As Firealarms Shrieked in the Distance and Nightime Wind Rattled Window Panes

I've thought about telling you
That your eyes remind me of codependence
And that I miss my father sometimes
But you don't care for the words I've sown underneath my flesh
Or the wounds I've cauterized with promises of tomorrow

Dissect my scars because
I really am as deep as my skin
I really am as valuable as the men who fall into my bed

You want me like this, you say
You want the truth
Sans makeup and pretty words and push-up bras and appeals to dualistic worth

Because this is reality
And I'm dying soon enough  to pronounce this love
In foreign tongues
As I stumble into consciousness
And rattle my hollow bones

Because they've been seducing us with subliminal messages
Of the depth of our spirits
And the expanse of the stars beyond our galaxies
And the ineffability of the matter that dances in our organic universe

But we are identified by the covers we clothe ourselves in
We are our scars
We are our skin
We are our mistakes
And you want to define me

To leave a mark, you have to slice deeper
That cut's too shallow to bleed out at your feet

This isn't romantic
It's all biological; it's all a chemical reaction
Like drugs, like alcohol, like erupting volcanoes

But my body is adequate
And yours is, too
We were created for basic functions
Actualize your potential
In my arms, though
Only in my arms

That's the best we have
That's all we really have
Love, darling, acquaintance, instigator, liar, damnation