I’m so lost in a world that’s not my own. I’m stuck entwined between your bones and your heartbeat.
the worst part is
is that i can recite the exact curves on your body
in the dark
and that i can always find the perfect spot in your lips
and that even after all of this time,
i have the gleam in your eyes memorized
because i’m so homesick for the eyes that once looked at me as if i was heaven
instead of hell.
If empires really fall like you say then my walls have been wrecked and there’s nothing left of the jaded pride I forced into existence by the leftover scars of past “love” except the rubble beneath your fingernails
I was never made of stone, I’ve always been easy to burn but I had to paint myself gray
As ashes that once glowed furious orange of “never again”
'Hell hath no fury' but Hell's never met you
silence is not a sad metaphor.
embrace it for what it is, a
realize: life is
life and pain is
pain. and sometimes
they go hand in
think of how many times
you breathed today and
how many times you
if you must,
bite your lips until
you bleed to remind
yourself you’re not dying.
you may be weak
but does God let go
of the weary?