Neon bruises

i want love like a car crash,
metal bending under the weight of it,
something that leaves scars
but proves i was here.

we met under the broken glow of streetlights,
his eyes cold as a kiss in the dark.
he whispered my name like a sin,
and i followed, knowing it would break me.

the world is too clean for this kind of chaos,
too gentle for the kind of love
that leaves you shaking and bruised.
but i still gave him my hands,
let him mark me in neon—

because sometimes,
the only thing that makes sense

is the mess.