the sad ones
I’m losing my nerve
It’s already begun
One look in your eyes and my will comes undone
Beautiful, not mine
Do your toes tap to the rhythm in time?
You are good, but are you kind?
Hope, love, wonder, peace
I’ll wrap myself in yards of each
And learn to walk these city streets not longing for a pair of feet that only ever seem to run
Take me home now in a hearse
’cause I fell for pretty words
and the moment that it hit me?
Well, I dried up very quickly
Like a raisin, like a ruin
Slowly rotting in the sun
When you don’t fight, don’t even blink, as you get up and walk out the door
It kinda makes me wonder what the fuck all that loving was for
Cast this pestilence from my bones and go once you’ve ravaged me
You are a sword, freshly forged, gouging out my eyes and tongue
I bleed and the breaths come out raggedly
A consequence, the aftermath, a legacy—of what?
In the absence of concrete explanation, the anxious mind creates
Her works are not kind; they are wide-eyed, fear-based.
Roaming unquietly on a road where trust does not follow...
I am sorry for what I did in this place.
I will not apologize for falling in love with everything I thought I couldn’t be because I had never seen it displayed so openly but had always been right there, the whole time (right there the whole time!) within me
Muse, ghost
We have but a moment
The longing is what lives on