my limbs seem to be strung up
by some unseen strings,
and they love to pull on my skin
whenever i try to feel something
and their voice —
like guitar strings reverberating and
screaming and singing
for me to stop
because they know,
happiness doesn't last long for me
and i am truly terrified to indulge in it
if i'll feel too much it will be the death of me,
and i won't be able to feel ever again.
YOU ARE READING
𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘
Poetryi look at the white bells hanging off green shanks - they are perfumed with death.
