Ruins.
Somewhat like a fallen temple, sheets thrown across carelessly and books scattering the floor.
Clutter a sign of genius, as you inhale your cigarette slowly killing your aching soul, hoping to maybe absorb some of the lit flame.
Traces of nights long and tiresome, coffee stains on ink splattered pages, blankets rustled from lovers left without a second word.
Empty, like the coffee *** that you refuse to clean more than once a week.
Bits and pieces of memories ****** down a pipe from the white wine that left your system this morning.
You look so beautiful when you sleep.
Years taken off with wrinkles and fine lines missing, full pink lips that explain everything i've ever needed to hear.
Candle wax left upon tables from hot baths that resulted in ***** of words that were better left unsaid.
Come closer.
Close enough that we are mingling carbon dioxide and oxygen, absorbing every ounce of life.
Love, soaking through my blood like the iron that is running through my thin veins.
Tied together with twisted heart strings, branched and torn, split and tried.
Ruins.