Kiss me,
I'm sick.
I love you,
I hate you,
in 30 second intervals.
I shapeshift
in ten syllables
with no pauses.
You think that this time
it'll be different,
that I won't run.
And I flinch
because you don't
deserve this.
The truth is
that I'm already
dreaming of
wide open spaces
and books with blank pages.
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
Kiss me,
I'm sick.
I love you,
I hate you,
in 30 second intervals.
I shapeshift
in ten syllables
with no pauses.
You think that this time
it'll be different,
that I won't run.
And I flinch
because you don't
deserve this.
The truth is
that I'm already
dreaming of
wide open spaces
and books with blank pages.
