"What's wrong? What happened?"
The answers to those questions are: everything and nothing, respectively.
It's about what didn't happen.
What you didn't do.
What I didn't say.
What neither of us can see.
What only I can feel.
How everybody I have ever loved has refused to even acknowledge my soul's yearning for them. How you, my dear, have become just the same.
I'll put your name next to the new burn on my wrist.
YOU ARE READING
Desolate Moon (SS 2)
Poetrymore exhibitionism, more emotional outbursts, more uncomfortably uncut honesty. TRIGGER WARNING.
