Like smoke spilling from plump lips, my love flows off of my skin, sticky and damp with the warmth emulating from my heart.
Brewing silently is fury and coldness, frustration painted over it as the simple explanation of a complicated emotion.
Ignorance is bliss to those who wish to forget, but if you’re the one who wants to fix the issue, ignorance is nothing more than Russian Roulette.
Elaboration is crucial to the healing process because without analysis of a problem, all you will do is repeat history and hurt even more than before.
Like syrup dripping from wet lips, tears fall from my blood-shot eyes, salty and tacky with the last hint of warmth from my dying heart.
