Her breath circles on my tongue Before falling into my blood, And the chemistry is the same As alcohol to flame. She is bound to burn me down To nothing more than desires That I am ill equipped to resist...
I’ll hold out for tonight, The same as every night, But I swear this time tomorrow I’ll be better, I’ll be whole. It’s not that I enjoy lying But it’s the only thing I own; My words are still my words, Even if they have no home. So while everything is burning I’ll keep pretending … Continue reading I want to hurt me, to prove that you were nothing special. I want you to see my scars, so I can scream “See?! I don’t need you to break me! I can do it just fine all alone!”
Speak to me, on bended knee! "O sweet dreams, my dreary queen!" Sail away on those ships of yours Past the end, over the floors Of a raging Ocean, with waves as tall As my clouds, the love that won’t fall… ~My words on paper mean nothing at all, for in a moment of rage … Continue reading Years may pass, but the Sun hasn’t changed; It’s the same every May, and so is the pain.
Nobody just becomes an adult because they want to. Sure, people can try to be an adult, but honestly, it’s not something you can control. One day you’re a kid, and the next day that’s all over, and you are an adult from that point forward. It’s not sad or painful, at least not all … Continue reading I can do my own taxes, and can legally rent a car, but today for lunch I had a handful of diner mints, and while filling out a form for a new credit card I forgot my new address. So I’m sort of grown up, but maybe not so much.
I’m 25+ years old, I don’t need “thin” mints. I don't have time to waste on that baby shit, give me those “Thicc” mints.
You know, I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to keep waking up in physical pain, throwing up my future all over my bathroom floor, replacing my bath rugs on a weekly basis. It’s not fun, and it makes me feel nothing. I don’t want to be nothing, but what else is … Continue reading The rush you once gave me has become a burning friction, and the years spent alone have turned my love into fiction, and nothing I ever do will mean a goddamned thing.”
You love me. But your love, It’s the same love As the January Sun; An abbreviated afternoon Punctured with pockets Of cumulonimbus skies. Your kisses breed frostbite, Coating every syllable In a gelid timber. But I found something, Even if you are Just passing through. And it was enough For me to latch onto, Even … Continue reading “It feels like I’m thinning out my soul, turning once sturdy cider bark into bargain bin brown paper bags.”
That little light from your lampshade 