brain-
lately, you're filled with a lot of static and i keep trying to adjust the antenna but you're not coming through any clearer. i know you've got a lot going on and i know you're always at odds with my heart. maybe i don't listen to you enough so you're speaking a whole new language. maybe i can only register heartbeat palpitations. logic never made sense to me.
eyes-
you've seen a lot of awful things and had to grow up way too fast, but you still manage to shine so bright.
ears-
you can't pick and choose what you want to hear. i need to know these things.
teeth-
stop biting my tongue every time i get the nerve to say something. you're the most vicious thing about me.
throat-
you have a lot to say but you never speak up. you're swallowing all my ideas whole.
heart-
you're a control freak and an expert at making bad decisions. you have this habit of crawling out of my chest and vacationing at the base of my throat. i wish you wouldn't speak in so many metaphors, too much poetry. nobody wants to hear it. give me something to work with.
lungs-
i know half of you is damaged. we bonded over it the moment the doctor said it. there's days when you're weak and i push you harder than i should. but more often than not, i could swear on the fact that you're the strongest thing about me. i'm trying to be half as strong. i'll get there.
hands-
stop writing letters to the wrong people. put down the pen. put yourself on something that matters.
stomach-
i know you're sensitive to sounds, to smells, to sights. i know you tumble and spin faster than a washing machine. there's a murder scene with the blood and guts of all the butterflies you've torn up over the years, but yet more and more keep being born. i think you're best friends with my anxiety.
knees-
you get weak the minute you see blue eyes or hear his laugh. i know i taught you to be stronger than that.
legs-
please fight the urge to run. i want to stay this time.