a trembling candle flame spluttering and unsure of itself but casting a warm light nonetheless you blew it out and then used the still hot tip and pressed it to my wrists my neck my heart and said ‘we can still be friends’ i knew it wouldn’t last and i was right
***** and sweat, Hunched and broken, By the toilet bowl I will flush you out Until the only thing left of you Of us Is the tears in my eyes And the acid in my throat
the problem with “unspoken understandings”- words never said but meant to be known, is that sometimes there is no understanding at all, just hushed words whispered into a telephone with a muted receiver.
i think the worst thing you can be is afraid worshipping at the altar of fear is how man is ruined day after day locking hearts in cages is the act of a coward and yet... and yet. everyday i am afraid of society of the facts about myself i bury and suppress i kneel before the thundering clouds of fear and submit to them but one day soon i think i may stumble on even as anxious lightning strikes me at my core
i'm trying not to be afraid and maybe you could call that bravery
another drop of joy i clasp welled in my hands slips helplessly through my fingers and drips into the tranquil lake where it can no longer be reached lest i lose the bliss i treasure like a reserve and although i thirst greatly i will not drink another drop slips
i never said i’d be alright just thought i could hold myself together