skin as delicate as worn out tissue paper,
i want to get ****** and write about something that matters.
if i can say one thing for certain (which is not much),
it is that i am all too familiar with loss.
not only people, things, but myself.
i start anew on the daily. feelings that come and go like spring showers.
a burnt out cigarette heart.
damage that will never allow me to taste the same.
these blue eyes are ******* sad. scars on my arms that scream i haven't seen what i want to yet.
i broke myself because i heard that's how the light gets in, but it's still so dark.
one time, i saw what it was to be unconditionally loved. a season full of cigarettes and freckled noses.
i must learn,
i am incapable of giving nor receiving.
i am a car crash, an abandoned house, a new school that will never see a child.
"tell me what is missing", i screamed in a dream where i ever loved you.
i fear i will never get over it