i held you on my tongue,
you were **** and squeezed my tastebuds
before melting into a sickly sweet syrup.
even golden shots of dizzying acid
weren’t enough to wash you away.
i was forever tainted by your taste.

your skin was weaved from moonlight and glistening dust,
that danced with the fireflies
and painted empty canvases atop empty canvases.
sometimes in the latest of nights,
i can still see a fragment of your soul,
illuminated on the silken sheets.

perhaps it’s the false sense of security i seek—
i’d do anything to hear those sweet words murmured in my ear,
like a lullaby from the devil.
i just want to feel safe again,
and breathe in your gentle laughter and honey smile,
even if it wasn’t me you’re laughing at,
but my naivety.

if i could rewind time,
i would swallow myself in the darkness for you,
just so you wouldn’t have to do the same.

he was a great juggler.
he juggled hearts—the more the better—
no need to fret if one fell from his grasp,
there was always room for another.

i seem to have misplaced my heart
and now i can’t find it.

if the pain hurts so bad
that you’ve gone numb,
how is it any different
from not feeling any pain at all?