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locketofdaisies
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One too many deaths like this one. No, it’s not the workings of my imagination tricking me. There’s the past and the rose-colored threads that I pull from a tapestry of ****** reds. I know it wasn’t that good to begin with. What do I miss, I ask myself as I play with the delicacy of a past death between my fingers. The moments of bliss were so little, the pain so great. Would I come back, I ask myself again as the last piece of art that would know these hands burns in its absence. No, I wouldn’t. I close my eyes, I’ve never really understood my masochistic mind. I step on the edge of a longing for a heart that never existed; one that cared, one that stayed, one that held me when the world turned into a despicable place. For a moment I feel her hands around my neck, a caress that made me experience Heaven and Hell. Our moments play, they become a noose around my neck; and I jump. Here I go again.
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Jun 5, 2025
Jun 5, 2025 at 10:48 AM UTC
locketofdaisies
Nostalgia.
One too many deaths like this one. No, it’s not the workings of my imagination tricking me. There’s the past and the rose-colored threads that I pull from a tapestry of ****** reds. I know it wasn’t that good to begin with. What do I miss, I ask myself as I play with the delicacy of a past death between my fingers. The moments of bliss were so little, the pain so great. Would I come back, I ask myself again as the last piece of art that would know these hands burns in its absence. No, I wouldn’t. I close my eyes, I’ve never really understood my masochistic mind. I step on the edge of a longing for a heart that never existed; one that cared, one that stayed, one that held me when the world turned into a despicable place. For a moment I feel her hands around my neck, a caress that made me experience Heaven and Hell. Our moments play, they become a noose around my neck; and I jump. Here I go again.
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