I had the wind ripped out of me,
like i was bleeding under cotton wraps
and a galaxy was exploding from my veins.
there’s glass everywhere
and you’re still deflating my lungs,
begging me to rest
we were childhood friends
and i only knew of you
but you stuck thorns in the carriage of my rib cage.
i got a paper cut and cried,
you poured salt on my withering roses,
and they died in the haze of that hot summer.
i’m going to rot just like you,
like the trees
like the birds
and i’m sorry
I let myself live before you
but i wanted to hold on to the taste of winter.
I don't have much to say about this other than I wrote it a while ago and I'm essentially only uploading it to make my new account not-so-empty. It needs some cleaning up, but I would rather just write a new poem rather than fix an old one.