He jumps the train as the wheels come to a screeching halt darkness covers him he runs, legs flip in the air he pants, looks back the armed men sleep relief a chill in the night air his skin reveals the moon hides he stumbles powerful will to survive sounds of the forest flourish thick with brush closer the last struggle it embraces him freedom
I’m not empty. It’s not that I don’t feel anything. The exact opposite.
I feel so much.
So much I get desensitized to my own emotions. They flow around like water in every corner of my body. Mixing in with my blood until there is no cell untouched.
It used to be a gentle lake. But now It’s an ocean. So all I can do is sit here and pretend that I’m a puddle. Just like everyone else.
Return to my kiss, my sweet for I have not erred a crazy fling, though consensual intoxicated, shrouded in a fog of lust no fault of my own I implore comeback I will eternally bemoan foolish act of ignorance leave me not in my ocean of guilt
the day i was born i was given a knife slice open letters if you like the day i was born the moon sighed and the world did not stand still barely moved and i was an infant with a knife i carried all my life and on days where i am less content with my life i feel a prickly jab on my sides remember you have a knife