oh you, so terrified of living for yourself

Do not romanticize me as the girl who reminds you of your mother.
There is a land rooted in me

where disorder has reigned for eighteen years.

I am a tempest.

You?

Winded.


We knock teeth.


Your father warned you of girls
who pick up the shards of nocturnal habits —
I am bleeding from broken sleep.

My teeth are bridged by a wire but they are turning yellow.
I am being criticized by people who want to glow like the fucking moon. 

Your mother sold stories about the warmth drawn out of flesh that shines; 

only the supernatural glow.

She says I was born a ghost —
I remind her that I am alive,

that humans are named after hurricanes.

Please,
keep your shadow with me. 

I do not want to lose the blush of your neck in blinding light.

”

—	Alessia Di Cesare, Do Not Romanticize Me As The Girl Who Reminds You Of Your Mother