i'm sure if i cut you open
you'd bleed out gold
soul of a soft blanket
that soothes my tears to sleep
the voices in me, they chide
"not this one. it has to be different"
mind of optimism
vessel of subtle love
let's lay in the dark
let's wear our voices out
til the dark is all that's left of us
YOU ARE READING
𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌
Poetrystatic stat·ic ˈstat-ik. adjective characterized by a lack of movement or change trigger warning: read at your own risk! | just an unnecessarily long collection of me trying to get over my feelings
