𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇,ㅤmy sweet haven.
i wonder how many nights i stayed listening to the sound of your heart as it broke a million times over and over again. your muffled sobs and the tall bottles of liquor smashing against the walls still echo through the darkening corners of my brain. the fragments of tragedy that tumbled past your vodka-stained lips were arrows shot right at my heart, each and every one of them failing miserably at pushing me away.
i was drowning in a sea of red — similar to the cherry hue of your lips after you realised that bad habits are hard to get rid of. but that didn't mean i would simply abandon everything in the blink of an eye. it's said that the best of things in life take time to grow. you've let go of the hope that was once dwelling your tired soul, but i can only wish now for you to let everything catch up to you.
you're still a work of art, and that won't ever change. i can still see the starry nights, the smoking skeletons, the absinthe-filled evenings in which you spent ruminating over recollections. your quiet chuckles, your gentle humming, your blunt words — every single thing that makes you the same person you are today, i can still see it all.
and i hope you know that your soul alone can set this whole damn world on fire. you contain so much hidden energy, and the power that you have is running through your veins while the tears run down your cheeks. wrath? the word is nothing but a mere understatement. the devil withers under your gaze. the gates of hell fly open, angels learn to sin, thunder shouts, lightning leaves this earth shaking in its wake, all when that look in your eyes flashes brightly.
you say that you're not special, and you then start doubting something greater than you could ever imagine. there's a side to you that is beyond strawberry milk and unfinished tales of a blue-eyed boy. whatever you do, wherever you go, and through anything that happens, learn to keep that side of you as close as possible. don't ever lose who you are.
