I used to wonder if there were people like me looking into the eyes of strangers and watching their past uncoil from them like the snakeskin they refused to shed. Seeing in shapes and colors so distinct, Their lovers’ shoes were lined up by the door. And how many times did those shoes leave and never come back? How many times did grief come down like a boulder and break them into a thousand jagged pieces where now their sharp edges unknowingly break everything on its path? I used to wonder will my story be the same. Will I get out alive if I can continue to scream from the top of my rib cage? I used to think I could be protected, That this breathing heart would never burst beneath the bones of me. But now I whisper from the roof top of my mouth, Break me. Break me. Break me. Because I want to know what it feels like to see your dark. I want to know all my broken pieces. I was never just a single whole I want to see your shoes walk out and never return, If it means they are walking this earth. Smother me in a blanket of scars. I don’t want to just wonder anymore.