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Apr 2020
you’re such a melancholic enigma.
heart shaped bruises on your neck and lipstick stains on your porcelain skin

there’s no beauty running through those filthy veins, you are not crystalline.

you have terror in your words as they hold me in a tight embrace. i never felt so cold, yet so warm in someone’s grip. i could get frostbite from your hands, and a heatstroke from your lips.

your tongue is sharp as a blade
you had enough time to practice
and now you’re slicing my chest open
so you can rip my heart out.
Written by
phoebe  21/F/TX
(21/F/TX)   
98
     Wyatt, efni and Bogdan Dragos
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