this love of ours had always been a lie. a fabricated story that had gone too far and twisted our hearts in more ways than we were ready for — more than what we could ever afford. with fleshy gums you ask me why does this hurt so bad and i tell you it’s only to make it fair — passing out in midnight hues, i tell you i love you despite knowing the ache in my chest with each syllable i bleed only intensifies and i crave nothing more than to be swept in between the cracks of your winter undertones and to be left in your ruins. you tell me you love me despite the crushing of your windpipe making the echoing of sobs erupt bitterly in your chest cavity, the flames that rise in your belly make you want to itch at it yet you yearn to be set ablaze.


because i asked you with fleshy gums of my own, why does this hurt so bad and you look me in the eyes and tell me its only to make it fair.