When you say you love me, remember to dig your knife deeper into my back.
Gentle touches turn into pins and needles when I don’t give you what you want.
When you tell me how much you care, make sure the blade on my neck draws blood.
Let it be the offering that soothes your tired and raging soul.
Honor the sacrifices and loss of myself that was done to help heal you.
When you speak your pretty words to me that’ll lull me into moments of passion and guilt, hurt me for the last time.
A response to you making my life unhealthy. A quick reaction to show my displeasure. An almost violent reaction to a loss. /// \\\ I wouldn't let you come back, not unless you were brand new. I wouldn
Always creating scenarios to feel alive, hopeful. Always holding too tightly because what is life and love with no logic, control. Freely letting guards fall to not know each other later. Finally rele
I lost control [!] then I lost control [...] I let it go a few times. I ran from it a few times. I tried to pick it up again too, but I just couldn't carry it anymore. I kept it movin. I had absolute