in the shadows of the cool kids

we nibbled on their leftovers.

tender was the night with approaching daylight

that we slept over in vampirish fears.

we injected ourselves with a distance—

so heal the wounds between our legs now.

shared trauma was our biggest turn-on—

voids in sync and same-pinch sorrows.

we used our bruises as our muses

and etched epics pseudonymously on undead threads.

so what if the spotlight burns us, darkness

mothers us? we are moths who turned our backs

to the light, and so our uncool dreams turned sinfully small—

to have a hand on another hand untrembling and lazy.

~ ajay

6/6/2022