The words jumped her barbed wire lips and were mangled in the most grotesque and unimaginable way
Escaping restriction to find themselves mangled, left inside out hanging by their own tongues
Off the edge of sanity dripping into forever.
Dipping a toe into the beautiful sorrow that is memory
Tears taste like wine and gin. Words smell like hangovers and violins.
Hearts ache like muscles sore from stretching for so long without use.
And Sundays like porcelain and donuts.