destruction is
a form of creation

your restless body
carried all the burden
that perplexed souls left you,
shackled with disdain
all alone.

the reverberating sounds
of gaiety tugged around
the edges of your
curled lips
but you still wear
heartbreak and misery
as your identity.

your autobiography
consisted of polaroids
of people who
left you jaded.

yet you let the feeling of love
cascade down your throat
even if it left you
still gasping for breath.