heaven is over now. the party got shut down. the amphitheater is empty. the bars deserted. usually so full of life but now; deathly silent. but they’re waiting.
believe it or not, i am still very much in love with you.
one day i will have flowers waiting for me when i get home, and glances at dinner with his family, and good sex, and actually laugh at what he says, and i will trust him completely, and i will truly love him.
the woman after me will see my poem engraved in your head, and the scars i left on you from clawing my way out of your wrath. only then will she realize she is far gone.
i will die trying to prove my critics wrong.
i’ve sworn for years we’re connected. because every time you come i can sense it. see it in the dark, hear it a million miles away. not only love swirls between us; raw want drags us back together over and over again.
you’re a melody
that is ingrained in
my head
but i cant quite remember
how the last part goes
to have gone through all of this, and to be as soft as i am, is truly a tragic delicacy. but still people perceive me as naive. i suppose they are no longer supportive of kindness.
i crave physical touch like a drug. i crave skin to skin, soul to soul kind of touch. i crave interlocking pinkies because i need a little hit. i crave to hug people that do little things for me because it’s the only way i know how to say thank you.
sorrow is on my tongue. i wonder if you can taste it.