Ignored // writings

31

Books are a city.
I feel so deserted.
Every page is like a building illuminating your atmosphere of imagination.
I can't think.
Every ink printed word is a step towards your version of heaven.
I have never felt so down.
Every letter is like a deep breath.
Breathing has never been so painful.

When you look at me my spine cracks.
When I hear your name my every corner bends.
When I think of you it's like a paper cut.

When it rains poison ink from above my city of books I try to take cover.
But taking cover from the pain you gave me is like staying dry in a hurricane I made with my tears.

When you left there was nothing left of me
So I jumped off the 5th story.

I.R.G.
2/3/18