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You keep your fists weighing down your pockets like stones, keep needles pinched up under your skin thinking the pinpricks might sharpen your sense of self-worth or maybe soften the accumulation of shadows under your eyes and the bruises gathering over your body.   Everything is as it should be - she tells you that timing will brush its gentle wings against these worries and paint you over in a shining new coat, and so you learn to wait to feel soft whispers against your skin, but you've spent too long already in silence and in dark corners, and the timing was never right then, so why should having faith work out any better? This pill slides down a lot easier when taken drunk or half-asleep, your eyelids heavy and movements slowed; you want to tell her that her dreams are going to be torn open and shredded by the world, you want to protect her before this happens, but everything happens for a reason, she tells you and you can't bring yourself to dilute what's left of her light, you can't look her in the eye anymore and maybe she's too full of innocence for someone like you to handle, or maybe you lost yours and that's what's been keeping you up all night, maybe she's exactly what you've been needing, but how can you tell her that she keeps everything dark away without draining her, how can you wrap her words around you like spiked armor that keeps you soft underneath, because lately you've been feeling like you need her , like she's the barrier between the world and the hole in your chest that grows a little emptier every day, but god, look at her, shining with all the light in her soul and look at you broken up and ready to cave in, and tell me how can you honestly expect to keep her, to preserve that soft beauty, when your hands are always rough and bleeding from one thing or another, how can you carry her without turning her into a cynic like you?
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Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 10:43 PM UTC
innocence and cynicism
You keep your fists weighing down your pockets like stones, keep needles pinched up under your skin thinking the pinpricks might sharpen your sense of self-worth or maybe soften the accumulation of shadows under your eyes and the bruises gathering over your body.   Everything is as it should be - she tells you that timing will brush its gentle wings against these worries and paint you over in a shining new coat, and so you learn to wait to feel soft whispers against your skin, but you've spent too long already in silence and in dark corners, and the timing was never right then, so why should having faith work out any better? This pill slides down a lot easier when taken drunk or half-asleep, your eyelids heavy and movements slowed; you want to tell her that her dreams are going to be torn open and shredded by the world, you want to protect her before this happens, but everything happens for a reason, she tells you and you can't bring yourself to dilute what's left of her light, you can't look her in the eye anymore and maybe she's too full of innocence for someone like you to handle, or maybe you lost yours and that's what's been keeping you up all night, maybe she's exactly what you've been needing, but how can you tell her that she keeps everything dark away without draining her, how can you wrap her words around you like spiked armor that keeps you soft underneath, because lately you've been feeling like you need her , like she's the barrier between the world and the hole in your chest that grows a little emptier every day, but god, look at her, shining with all the light in her soul and look at you broken up and ready to cave in, and tell me how can you honestly expect to keep her, to preserve that soft beauty, when your hands are always rough and bleeding from one thing or another, how can you carry her without turning her into a cynic like you?
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24/F/Ohio
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 10:43 PM UTC
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