Mar 2019
Purgatory feels like...
A dance with the devil who wears my lovers face. It feels like a disregarded boiling tea kettle of our responsibilities that is ready to burst. You hand it back to me as if it were an unwanted gift, making promises with fingers crossed in attempt to silence me. You force it into my arms and my arms alone as you are shaking your head in disapproval. Selfish snakes have stolen your once sweet tongue, now sour, as you ignore the fact that I already bare the weight of the world which clings onto my shoulders. Animosity swells inside me as two lives crash and burn. You walk away disconnected from it all, continuing on in your child-like life in a cusioned bubble of ignorant bliss. I am swollowed by quicksand inside this burning fictional house we built - standing here, paralyzed, mouth sunk open in disbelief. As you walk away...
A dance with the devil who wears my lovers face. It feels like a disregarded boiling tea kettle of our responsibilities that is ready to burst. You hand it back to me as if it were an unwanted gift, making promises with fingers crossed in attempt to silence me. You force it into my arms and my arms alone as you are shaking your head in disapproval. Selfish snakes have stolen your once sweet tongue, now sour, as you ignore the fact that I already bare the weight of the world which clings onto my shoulders. Animosity swells inside me as two lives crash and burn. You walk away disconnected from it all, continuing on in your child-like life in a cusioned bubble of ignorant bliss. I am swollowed by quicksand inside this burning fictional house we built - standing here, paralyzed, mouth sunk open in disbelief. As you walk away...
