when you speak you come to me as a ghost
you scared me more than i scared myself,
i was so afraid of loosing you.
i allowed your lies to penetrate through my walls
like insomnia turns the moon into the most perfect of companies.
you painted over the wall we drew on as children
the same way we erased our emotions when they were too painful to be allowed to stay;
i love your face,
aglow with blueness
so please
try
to stay
YOU ARE READING
horribly beautiful ✔️
Poetrypeople write about things that do not happen. they will romanticize this world in hopes of filling themselves up. they write like their words are food. but i have always written to empty myself completely. i will romanticize feeling nothing. jun...
