#heartbreakandhealing
A love that I once had, came with a hand—
“hand me your heart,” like, "hand me your bra"
While beneath candle-handful lights, unwrapping
yourself slowly to my delight; as these large hands
are quietly learning the language of your curves.
Because after love is lost, what hand isn’t still
searching for another heart to hold? A chest-hole
remembers — a love it once had
May 25
May 25, 2026 at 11:14 AM UTC
I am lost — __without a horizon__. Tell me:
what is it like to live without a conscience?
Learning how to freefall in the golden patterns
of parachutes, each moment feels like sunrise
blooming in my eyes.
Dreams are like aged photographs, as we
live in their flat silence, posing in fragments,
dancing around opinions in wide, unguarded smiles.
But under a blasting sun, its rays hit like bullets
piercing ivy-orange through my chest — _autumn-hued_
wounds that hope to shimmer like the gleam of sunset.
So I gather what glows, from scattered light and broken
frames, trying to make warmth from splinters, and to name
it hope. _Even in freefall, there’s beauty in how we land._
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 1:34 PM UTC