There is a place, far from heaven,
With a throne engraved with your name.
Farther down, far away, buried tight in my memory,
A throne of nails and pins, needles, used to hold me snug to the paper,
A careful display of your power.
You talk about me like I'm not there, like I'm nothing without you.
You wrap my bruises in "I love you" like it sutures my wounds.
You press "I'm sorry" to my lips, wishfully hoping I lose my voice.
Your "didn't mean it"'s stack up like unfinished homework on my desk, nameplate copper and oxidized with my exhaustion.
You say "I love you",
And somehow,
Some way,
I always find myself believing you.
Apr 29
Apr 29, 2026 at 4:11 PM UTC
There is a place, far from heaven,
With a throne engraved with your name.
Farther down, far away, buried tight in my memory,
A throne of nails and pins, needles, used to hold me snug to the paper,
A careful display of your power.
You talk about me like I'm not there, like I'm nothing without you.
You wrap my bruises in "I love you" like it sutures my wounds.
You press "I'm sorry" to my lips, wishfully hoping I lose my voice.
Your "didn't mean it"'s stack up like unfinished homework on my desk, nameplate copper and oxidized with my exhaustion.
You say "I love you",
And somehow,
Some way,
I always find myself believing you.
hail ruined my car and I'm sad about it :(
Request permission to use this poem