I never could make sense out of my own heart. The way it hurts
like it was broken in the womb, and I reach for everything like
an umbilical cord. I wonder about the moment when this life became
too bright for the battlefield behind my eyes. I close them, thinking
maybe I can spare someone from this empty cannon in my chest
that is still smoking. Nobody wants to walk through this ash that
is still burning in my mouth from all the words I was too cowardly
to speak, because those words were filled with too many sorrys.
It gets cold when you force yourself to lie down in a unmade bed
of your own silence and that silence always was as messy as the
noise of what you never said anyway. I want to plan a sleep over
with my own heart to see how long it…
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Perfect and Beautiful!
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