there are grand
and melancholic
stories of heart
break tattooed in
sweet cursive
against my heart
— i know each
line of them,
better than i
know the earthy
dust of cinnamon
freckles on
my arms
the protagonist
sure has gone
through some;
loves that hurt,
loves that smile,
and loves that she
could only wish for
no one would
have thought that
she would taste
the sweet spell
that was all roses
and chocolate and
midnight rain, no
one would believe
her when she said
she had fallen into
that feeling that
was all sunshine
and butterflies and
autumn leaves
❝ you're too
young, ❞ they'd say,
❝ you're but a
child, ❞ they'd say
but little did they
know that loving
him felt like she
had both relived
and outgrown the
molten sunlight and
the honeyed
naivety of her
c h i l d h o o d
those skyline eyes
that were all
mischief and
childlike wonder
were something of
a haven to her—
she found a peace
and steady rhythm
in his voice where
many only heard
chaos, and even as
they sidestepped
through the embers
and ashy statues of
hell she could only
see heaven in his
smile and love him
as if it were a
sacred and
ancient religion
but i've come to
skip the end
of her story
whenever i feel like
rereading the soft
scriptures of her
and her lovers
rendezvous's; their
end was not pretty,
and i often feel the
skin of my cheeks
shattering against
the tread of my
salted melancholy
when i think about
her lover being
taken from her as
they tiptoed
through hell at
midnight trying not
to wake the
m o n s t e r s—
their adoring
whispers obviously
weren't quiet
enough, not to the
demon girl, not to
the succubus
and it makes me
realise that the
worst thing about
losing your love to
someone else is
knowing that they'll
never come to love
even close to half
an atom of the
amount that you
loved them
0 6 / 1 0 / 2 0 1 8
WRITTEN 4:31PM
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𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝗉𝗈𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗒
Poetry❝ 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀. ❞ 𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗴𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗼𝗿 🔌🔥 ∗ ∵ • ° ⋅ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗇 2018 ©
