horribly beautiful ✔️

i taught myself piano but ive forgotten how to play

i knew that the worst of my choices would evolve

into the best of my stories

so i became reckless when the world became boring,

i filled it up with color on my own

i applied the galaxy like nail polish

i climbed barbed wire like ladders and flung myself into poison ivy like it was a swimming pool;

when i grew lonely i planted the ground with birdseed and stared into the cracks of your window.

i went on walks that lasted days and showered my body in the rain,

i climbed trees until they either
snapped or i was above all my trivial obstacles

and it was worth the risk because either way i would have broken my back.

i went to the river and i smashed all your guitars in a blinding

rage

they made a sound with more purer emotion than you

could have ever made.

i threw my clothes in the fire

and the current swept them downstream.

i taught myself piano
and i learnt all the intervals because my hands were too small

but you made me feel like in them

i could hold the north star.

you tuned my soul like an instrument;
i became exactly who you wanted me to be.

i'm in the last seconds of the purge,

my sight fades,

my fingers go numb and the cold water fills up and overflows

onto the floor and slides through my toes

how could i have ever tried to explain,
when all you do

is turn and look away,
if i tried to show you

you would cut your hands and
start falling over your own feet.

i asked my hair if it could make it to july

if my whole head could please

not fall off
in the shower again

so i wouldn't have to fix the clogging drain in the freezing tears storming

from its metal head.

my mother asked me to write
about the trees that caged our small house

and the river beds that i would once leap into

without a second thought,

instead i write
about the times

where heaven and hell decided to collide and

wipe out gods existence
from my mind.

i write of the thorn in your throat

and the nights we kissed the moon

goodnight

i wrote about the morning you did not wake up

to comfort the sun,
so the sun and i
died trying to comfort you.

my second book is out

if you enjoy 'horribly beautiful' it would mean the world if you would take a look.

thank you for reading