i'd like to be you
and be cold
like a fish freshly slaughtered
like a river frozen early in september
like something purposefully forgotten.

Or maybe i want purpose.
the way you feel when you remember my face
and are determined to look the other way
like I'm troublesome, a crack in new paint

I think though,
that I just want to be happy again
the way before all this
the thrill, the lust, the hope

Like those teeny movies with pretty sunsets
and soft focus and witty lines that lovers say before they fall in love.
I want that. That that wonder, that hope.