tug me along, let me forget. ignorance is bliss; even when manufactured. my sweetheart, may i escape? it leaves me slashed, scarred. artfully moulded to your liking, loving. the belief that this will last a little longer. just a bit away. always teetering, close to falling headfirst to below. what is below? i am not aware, but it flares to the surface like rouge forest fires bathing the night in its orange glow. its addictive, not knowing. tug me along, my dear, see where you will take me. i am aware it only leads to doom; yet i am willing to believe any word you say blindly, naively. tug me along darling, and though i know i will fall on my own, there is a small golden hope that you like me enough to fall together.
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YOU ARE READING
spent and silenced
Poetryits a book filled with vignettes and shit i write occasionally lmao
