— lost.
there's this beautiful,
ugly feeling of being lost.
of having a fire burning in me,
yet still being able to feel the frost.
it's the steady beats of my heart that made me realise,
your presence doesn't anymore make my soul
to gleefully spin.
for it is at your end, that i begin.
YOU ARE READING
swevens of vernorexia
Poetryi shall bloom flowers of love in your heart, so you may bleed petals for blood when i leave.
