tiny people crawling into trenches without raincoats are creating shaky civilizations with ants 

this is you. this is you staring blankly at dark windows covered in light curtains with your eyes closed. this is you holding hands with the enemy. this is you becoming the enemy with your fingers crossed delicately behind the left side of your back.

this is me in the morning. this is me grasping at smoke bombs and dreaming of making things explode. this is me dreaming of you. this is me with my fingers crossed tightly in a half-formed wish.

enable me to be destructive in an effort to tolerate my own existence, color me a sanctuary outside of state lines.