We were not born for softness,
We were built of breach and burn.

But I have seen them look at each other
Like the universe still turns.

I have watched her bleed on stars
And laugh with a mouth full of war.

I have watched him try not to need her,
And fail, a little more.

We are stitched together by secrets,
And spite, and what we lack.

We are the dead who won’t lie down—
And ghosts who crawl back.