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Jan 2019 · 76
honeyed words
Tink Jan 2019
the sun slips beyond the horizon,
as emptiness creeps inside my head,
never truly known by any person,
im a book left laying open but unread

written in a language lost in time,
is there anyone to decipher these strange words,
theyre written on my skin in golden letters,
delicate and fragile as hummingbirds

feelings flow out like a roaring fountain,
they scatter to the winds like paper cranes,
invisible to everyone around me,
just pulling petals off of daisy chains

whisper to me in the static darkness,
let me taste the honey of your lies,
sickly sweet and sticky on my heart,
false as the kisses you placed upon my thighs

to remain unseen is brutal condemnation,
to a waking hell with no seen end,
im fading like a flower in the autumn,
theres wounds here that will surely never mend

— The End —