peace seems so far away now. like it didn’t happen this lifetime but a thousand years ago.
desire is such an ugly thing. pure want disguised in wandering fingertips, fingers laced in hair, and glazed over eyes.
i think the prophecy is wrong. there is no way the universe would torture me this humorously.
i will be screaming until i can no longer make sound.
cold air hits my lungs and i finally feel alive again.
you touch me just right and change my definition of holy.
i have a feeling that in the next fifty women you undress, all you will be able to see is that they are not, and could never be me.
i rip open my stitches each time you stumble back into my life. even though i know i will cry tonight as i stitch them up after you leave.
there is hate brewing in my bones. i do not believe it will stop until you are laid to rest.