Dec 11
Abruptly
deep in my gut,
no longer
fluttering butterflies,
the flustered blushing,
rush of blood,
but utter disgust
bubbling up.
Knees buckling,
stuck in its clutches
when it cuts,
ruptures,
unobstructed
it erupts;
gushing upset
to puddles
and like destructions not enough,
still struggling to adjust,
im left
just a husk.
Nerves in flux,
shuddering
from as much as a touch,
thoughts no longer
lustrous luck
but nothing–
dusk.
So what of us?
We rust,
structure
reduced to rubble,
crushed
to dust.
deep in my gut,
no longer
fluttering butterflies,
the flustered blushing,
rush of blood,
but utter disgust
bubbling up.
Knees buckling,
stuck in its clutches
when it cuts,
ruptures,
unobstructed
it erupts;
gushing upset
to puddles
and like destructions not enough,
still struggling to adjust,
im left
just a husk.
Nerves in flux,
shuddering
from as much as a touch,
thoughts no longer
lustrous luck
but nothing–
dusk.
So what of us?
We rust,
structure
reduced to rubble,
crushed
to dust.
This one is about that sweeping feeling you get in the pit of your stomach every time something reminds you. Even afrer being with them a year the butterflies never stopped, and now its like they just hurt. I swear im constantly trying my hardest not to think about it but it's hard when you shared so much (and so much of yourself) with someone that everything is just a constant reminder (when i used to think about how lucky i was) 💔
