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Gunpowder

You said you don’t believe in fate, but you check the horoscopes anyway. I laughed, said “you’re such a cliché,” then wrote your name inside my palm. You talk in lowercase and half-truths, I listen like it’s gospel youth. You once said love’s a loaded thing I guess I’m proof. When they said your name too carelessly, it burned a hole right through my teeth. There’s gunpowder residue on my heartstrings, every note a warning flare. If the world ever turned on you, I’d set it all on fire, I swear. You’re the only thing that makes me calm and the only thing I’d go to war for. You always say you hate goodbyes, but you love to start a fight. I still have that photo booth strip, your hand mid-air like you might stay. I’ve memorized your nervous laugh, it sounds like thunder underwater. Every bruise you ever got, I wished it found me harder. I’m not proud of how it feels this mercy that could kill. There’s gunpowder residue on my heartstrings, every note a warning flare. If the world ever turned on you, I’d set it all on fire, I swear. You’re the only thing that makes me calm and the only thing I’d go to war for. They say devotion’s just a word, but mine’s a loaded prayer. If loving you’s a crime of nerve, then call the sirens, I’ll be there. When the smoke clears and the lights dim, I’ll still be here - shaking, smelling like fireworks, and everything I never meant.