you painted constellations on my body with my own blood and i thought it was a masterpiece. i let you take every part of me that made my body a whole, and i let you break them down into tiny pieces before you crushed them into dust.

i’m not trying to romanticize us or our pain, but when your hand wraps around my throat, i swear i can see the galaxy when the darkness consumes my blurry vision

i still moan your name in my sleep and fist fight the demons that you sent my way a year ago just so you can get back at me

how does it feel to ******* blood on your tongue? you’re trailing wet kisses on my bare hips as if you’re mapping the devil’s lands

and i think i’d let you break me again if you asked politely.