my soul isn't for your consumption

I tumble into you
and you're hanging
on my every word
trying to get to the soul
of me
like I'm more
than flesh and bone
like I'm more
than a ghost haunting
this amalgamation of stardust

You built
a mental monument of me  
spoke the raw curves of me
into being
but you forgot to add
the fragile human edges
that always, always crumble
to dust
under the pressure
of what it means to just be

And I don't know how to trust this
when your fascination
feels like the edge of obsession
and you're treating me
like I'm the answer to a question
you haven't asked yet

I tumble into you
and I'm breaking walls again
my hands streaked with blood
my soul pressed against my chest
begging you to close your eyes
while I repack my ribcage
that I ripped open
in the mistaken hope
you wouldn't want to bottle
the essence of me
like every man before you