i didnt know the world could be so colourful
until i met you
and now its stripped,
i hope i find a new rainbow soon,
one that won't leave me
in a world full of clouds and fog.
and perhaps, having been raised with
skin as thin as paper was more damaging
than anything you ever said or did.
perhaps it was my own fault
that you could see every emotion through my transparent flesh,
and perhaps it was my own doing
that lead to my own heartbreak.
i hope your heart is happier than mine.
i want to crawl beneath my own flesh
and rip out every drop of suffering
im so very tired
and maybe once the itch is gone
ill be able to rest forevermore
the mist, the fair maiden who was once akin to a security blanket, is now swallowing me whole. shall i evaporate with her?
the smell of cigarette smoke is more comforting than you ever were
every moment i've had with any of you
is a moment of borrowed time
and the books are overdue.
and continuing to laugh here with you,
to pretend that nothing has changed,
is like drinking a flavourless poison.
it burns, it's killing me,
but i don't want to accept the reasons why.