this is an early draft of a poem i'm working on:

you told me, tell me a time in which you broke the mirror

and seven years crept on slowly until you found me

arms bent at awkward angles in the grass

laying like the bluebird that struck my window while we made love

you spoke honestly only through sleepy lips to convince me otherwise

that you were truth, but I saw a more ruthless and reckless side of you

two years you claimed felt like twenty

until that moment when you felt nothing at all