from “remember that we made this together — cherry wine”
.
i once wrote ballads of flowers,
verses shaped like letters,
choruses of lovers
and their whispers.
then my papers were crushed.
ink began to melt,
to burn.
i was no longer a writer after all.
no.
i was lower than the lowest,
and that did not make me a liar.
the stars became witnesses
as the wind from your mouth,
******* with no soul,
turned to blades,
and leaves began to fall.
you were not a lover after all.
no.
you led me to the height
only to watch me drop.
then i became the sound you listened to,
my body made a tool
for your ******
red pleasure,
black tragedy.
you were addicted.
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 12:44 AM UTC
from “remember that we made this together — cherry wine”
.
i once wrote ballads of flowers,
verses shaped like letters,
choruses of lovers
and their whispers.
then my papers were crushed.
ink began to melt,
to burn.
i was no longer a writer after all.
no.
i was lower than the lowest,
and that did not make me a liar.
the stars became witnesses
as the wind from your mouth,
******* with no soul,
turned to blades,
and leaves began to fall.
you were not a lover after all.
no.
you led me to the height
only to watch me drop.
then i became the sound you listened to,
my body made a tool
for your ******
red pleasure,
black tragedy.
you were addicted.
