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SMOKE.
hollow heart. fire sparks. embers burn. a love returned.
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ANCHORS.
your love is a millstone around my neck, binded by the haze you leave in my head.
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AUTONOMY.
crawling through a field of dirt, a flower in the sunlight. she’s tired and broken, yet sun-kissed and golden. with the slightest touch down her spine, her tortured, wilted body is mine. this fragile imitation of life is ghostly. as my thoughts turn into the night.
this temptress owns me.
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IRREPARABLE.
when your channels are burned and heart dried to its core, and the stitches don’t sew like they had before, when your skin is shedding and bleeding your flaws, it was you.
but it could have been me.
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SURREALISM.
your love is my love. a violent reality i’ve softened in my head.
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EXISTENCE.
so many vivid dreams. living vicariously through my imagination. dreams of the ocean, her silky skin. sharing the dance of her dying breath. her spiritual energy, i’ve adopted as my own. for she exists to give life. and all i’ve done is destroy it.
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