He sometimes thought he was made to be broken
so he died
he wrapped himself in a shroud of dream and went to you
steady planks beneath your backs
the sonorous trickle of flow about you
your palm on his palm
your pulse on his pulse
eyes fixed upon your view
and when his eyes fixed he thought he saw his name
backwards in lime lights
but was it really there?
crickets chirped their warnings
fish surfaced to share in the fallout

he breathed in

You
You make
You make me
You make me want
You make me want to

but
not

I should have made a
I should have made
I should have
I could have
I would have
I would
I

he breathed out

His pulse trembled like his hand
He swallowed them up, those stars
like his wishes and his wish to be swallowed up
he hadn't brought the toast
unnecessary with you, your pulse in hand
and when he didn't feel a squeeze he excused himself
even though there was no excuse for him
and he went inside a house and fell on someone elses bed
another who welcome him and held him fixed
hand on his hair
he knew it was a test and that he was too stupid
tests always made him look so stupid
and he died
because he sometimes thought he was made to be broken