i am a book that was once read,
devoured,

but now i sit on your shelf
waiting for you
to pick me.



if i saw your lips they would **** me in

and you are just as fleeting
as the universe cutting into the pieces of itself,

tearing at every hole in heaven.



and i feel so lost in the empty spaces
where your hands weren't,

before you loosened your grip on my throat

when you forgot to consider the exit wound;

you were more than my friend,
you were the only part of me that i wanted to fully become

you and your stain of a smile;

the way you grew from these negative emotions.



the promises i make to myself seem to be the hardest ones to keep

and though i hate to lie

letting you down seems so much harder.

i think i would destroy you



i would destroy you



like i used to.