Paperweight Poetry

Would you drop the stars just to hold my hand? -anna sluder

Don't tell me to be realistic When you are chained to logic And I am chained to the stars.  -anna sluder

I know where to name my ache It is exactly three quarters of an inch  Below my fifth rib on the right side,  Diaganol from my belly button  And symmetrically in line with my left arm The pain isn't surface level, or in one place  It is systemically clawing across my muscles And into every one of my organs Lighting a fire in my bones But yet it all comes from the same place Below my fifth rib, on the right side The place where you lay your head.  -anna sluder

I used to count the stars like the way you count your teeth One finger pressed to a tooth, one finger to the sky Hopping from one to the next  But here transfixed under the sky  I don't count stars the same way I count teeth Because now I don't even try.  -anna sluder

Remember that song that you wrote for me? That had a lovely little melody and I sang the harmony to in the last part? Well I heard it resounding as my chest began to crack For our song was the sound of you breaking my heart.  -anna sluder