i don't like the way i never listen to you.
the sunshine on my cheeks feels like a forest fire. the fractured imagining of a girl with broken collarbones. the one who is tied down with weights on her ankles and a chain tugging on her gut. i'm feeling down about this love.
please tell me you won't be empty promises and guilty footsteps. i've had enough of those to last me a short suicide.
pale face and dark circles on my skin, watercolour bruises bleeding into silver rivers. the lack of life in my fingertips. the lack of anything.
the fullness of oblivion.
i love the bones trying to get out of my skin.
i love the way piercing pain cuts through the haze.
i love the hell i put myself through, 'cause flames at your feet is easier than trying to fly.
i love the closed curtains in my bedroom.
i love the sharp metal compared to the blunt truth.
i love the things that make me sob.
i love feeling broken-hearted.
now tell me, why am i feeling down about this love?
false hopes will make you fall.
foolish games will make you paper thin.
this empty love will give you a sugary smile.
i'm feeling down about this love.
YOU ARE READING
D R O W N
Poezjawe want to burn and die to fill the page as delicate words and memories and what we want what we need in life is more poetry and less pain but it's only a glimpse into a forbidden world a beautiful scene sharp to the touch so take your look if you...
