Broken Wings - Poetry {COMPLETED}

• s p i l t e m o t i o n s •

The poison is starting to spill over my fragile bones, with it slowly soaking and coursing through my discoloured veins.

Our love was a wild fire; jumping lakes and kissing the trees so passionately as we passed, like we were unstoppable. Then I came to realise a fire can be put out as quickly as it was started, and I began to overthink, depriving the hungry flames with the oxygen they begged for.

I began to think that being unsure was okay, as long as I kept silent. I figured I wouldn't hurt anyone if I never shot the silver-lined words that flew like bullets. I never realised that staying silent and pending on the trigger would hurt them more than the ammunition.

I had grown tired of spinning the cogs as I tried to figure everyone out and solve every problem that had been thrown onto my shoulders as eager eyes watched to see how my knees would buckle under the pressure, just so they could point their boney fingers and laugh at the failure before them.

I had become tired, and all I wanted to do was shut down...

Shut down, for good.