~*~*~*~

i'm not the aftertaste of yesterday evening, or the colour the sky turned when you smashed your windshield with my brother's baseball bat. i am not the cracks in your skin where the light bleeds through, and i am not the bruises on your bones or the molars you mash when you're nervous. i am not the lighter in your pocket or the ashes you breathe. i am not the rim of the mug you kiss every morning or the hairs of your knuckles and i am not the way you hold a guitar when you're on the border between high and wasted.

and i am not her or him or anything at all, but i am okay, and sometimes okay is enough.