originality is dead
Shake me. Wake me. Wrap me in your thunderstorms and around your pinky finger. Kiss me with your eyelashes while the world is waking up so that I will never feel something so honest again. Rub your pearly white skin over mine so that I might come away iridescent. Paint my brass parts golden with your secrets and your warmth and your past. Trust me with these things so precious and so fragile. Shape me. Startle me. Make me brave when I stand next to you, under streetlights and before crowned Kings. Make me brave when I look at you with barbed wire and electric fences. Slowly make your paths around my planets, my rings and my universe. Burn through my stubborn silence and sit with me until I feel ready to make noise again. Make me scream. Make me cry. Make me feel anything than what I’m used to. Because I’ve gotten used to being unordinary with you. Spin me. Stop me. Submerge me in ocean tides and star nurseries with endless space, but please don’t forget to breathe for me while I’m gone. Take me where I will feel wild and move like I was meant to, twist between trees and rolling down hills. Make me glimmer in the dusk with your magic dust because I have seen it many times. Dig into me and discover my quiet, shy bones that quiver at the touch of your hands. Wring me out so that my skin can dry beneath your cotton candy skies and let me lick the sweet air around me. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me. Because I repeat myself when I am lonely. Make a print of my heart and press it to your palm because that’s where you told me it belonged.

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