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there's a leak in my heart.i want to be naked in a room with you and only touch your face.
i want to marvel at the pain in your eyes and the choke in your voice, asking me to please, please, don't fade away. your eyelashes become black smoke and i mumble something about falling down.
so desperately do i want to close my eyes, to curl up in a ball and make my life an instrumental. but clinging onto the strings of my soul is a hand formed by thousands of i love yous, and countless feelings of inadequacy. i am not enough for you, and you are not enough for me. there will never be enough in this world for us. we are the disappointed. we are the ones that love with more than just our hearts.
lyrics form from the saliva in my mouth, and i sing them to you without a second thought. i am ashamed of the crack in my voice but you pretend not to even notice, and i squeeze your hand, hoping beyond hope that the calendar has made a terrible, terrible mistake.
i long to fulfill our wild and shadowed dreams, but bursts of gree
routineIllusion, that we share, among all the feelings,
comes together with fear:
to lose somebody, to lose
yourself, to come
to an end
without being a winner. If only
there was the beginning at all.
Somebody dies among these feelings
surrounded by fear -
It is not you
"It is no big deal" - - -
Pointillism.with each and every point
i create a dis.joint.ed image
that cannot be deciphered when you look
my thoughts are the same. you try again and
to decode my logic.
and you will not. full stop.
as each mem-o-ry grows
thinner my hands begin to s ha ke
and if i push down any harder my pen will
i've run out of red. i guess i'll use my blood instead
to make it personal to me.
my conclusion begins when i take the black pen from
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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