We Were Emergencies

We can stick anything into the fog and make it look like a ghost.
 But tonight let us not become tragedies.
 We are not funeral homes
 with propane tanks in our windows
 lookin' like cemeteries.
 Cemeteries are just the Earth's way of not letting go.
 Let go.
 Tonight, poets, turn your ridiculous wrists so far backwards
 the razor blades in your pencil tips
 can't get a good angle on all that beauty inside.
 Step into this
 with your airplane parts
 move forward
 and repeat after me with your heart:
 I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hated myself.
 Make love to me
 like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.
 Go slow.
 I'm new to this,
 but I have seen nearly every city from a rooftop
 without jumping.
 I have realized that the moon
 did not have to be full for us to love it,
 that we are not tragedies
 stranded here beneath it,
 that if my heart
 really broke
 every time I fell from love
 I'd be able to offer you confetti by now.
 But hearts don't break, y'all,
 they bruise and get better.
 We were never tragedies.
 We were emergencies.
 You call 9 – 1 – 1.
 Tell them I'm havin' a fantastic time.