Wednesday, 30 March 2016

The world shows up in new pieces everyday, you are everywhere and nowhere. My words they're old and broken, the clocks are tired of waiting and my rusty eyes lie awake ricocheting around memories with no answers, we made a mess of the perfect July. 
The tenderness of faith running in my blood is suffocating my wind pipe and my shaking heart still holds on to hope like it's my only salvation and my body aches in disgust of the person I've become. How do I define that feeling of suffering which eats you up with guilt reminding you that you're not allowed to feel this way because what's done is done and love can't be forced, water and smoke don't go together. but love, emptiness is an immense hole of nothingness and yet it feels so heavy against my skin. I understand your eyes haven't felt mine and I shouldn't ask for honesty when we didn't make any promises and based everything on lies. I don't understand why everything about you gives flight to my fragile bones. I gaze in awe at the insanity of this unsolved glorious mask. I have no idea how many incisions it took to carve your name so deep in me, I've given in to the madness it strangely shines inside me and my crumbling heart can't let go now

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