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When the air creeps under my skin
Frosting the tips of my fingers
And the metal chains coils
Around my beating heart
Until it squeezes out the air from my lungs

I lay down and close my eyes
To listen to the beckoning of mother nature
Let her songs tame my soul
I breathe as she taught me to
Pitter patter
The rain, it falls so beautifully
Part of me wishes
You would love me
But another part of me
Wants you far away
Where I can never hurt you

Maybe it's for the best.
You came back
With a vengeance

I must not have buried you
Deep enough
the ghost of christmas past
keeps running up on me
to and fro
with the
shuffling of papers and
the clinking of chains.
Im not really dead yet.
My chest rises and falls.
The breath escapes from my lungs, the air curls into ghosts of you.
Empty I loves as icy as your heart.

I won't be planning a funeral.
Doctors won't be pulling a sheet over my head.
There is life between my rib cage, it beats soft like a cats swishing tail.
There is life here, im apathetically not dead.

There is life here but not like with you.
Memories are haunting, like craving for water alone in the desert.
There is no LIFE here, only the stillness you left.
burner in the back of my mind
it'll have to suffice
i can't continue to dedicate my life
to the things that didn't go right
 Jan 2019 The Black Beast
autumn
i hate being okay
because okay is not happy
but okay is not bad enough for anyone to care
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