i’m so afraid of becoming everything i’m running from.
nothing. i feel nothing.
you at mine. and if the sun sets for the last time today, i will be happy knowing you are mine.
i do believe it would have been easier to have you ripped from me. because you’re still here, but i’m watching you undo the threads at a snails pace.
death’s hand fits so perfectly in my palm. no wonder my mind is attacking me.
hate seeps into my bones quicker than the chill in the air.
pure bliss is a high i never want to be sober of. i feel on top of the earth my feet have always been glued to. this must be that freedom the wanderers speak of.
i want to scream. i shall only halt when the windows rupture from their sills and the floor begins to shake. only then will i be able to go about my day.
i know that you’re not wasting time stuck in an endless cycle. i know you clawed your way out.