Stitches

Stitches

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WpMetadataReadOngoing1h 40m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jun 19, 2016
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Poetry
Love? Love is easy-it's like a walk in the park. Except the park is on fire And the ground is on fire. And the grass is on fire. And freakin' everything else is on fire. And the sky is black with smoke and you're weak-kneed and you can't breathe. But you keep going anyway, you keep riding that bike. Because outside that park, it's cold. And you think the fire keeps you warm.
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In the quiet spaces between words and silences, they stumble, two fractured souls reaching through the dark. Burnt mornings, tangled nights, and the weight of all the things left unsaid. Love here isn't a gentle flame, it's a storm, fierce and fragile, pulling them closer even as it threatens to tear them apart. This is a story of scars and surrender, of fragile hope whispered beneath broken breaths, and the endless ache of wanting someone to stay .. even when it feels impossible. Closer. Always closer.

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