her heart was decorated
by a pearled ribcage and satin skin,
and though it worked while heavily weighted,
there was still nothing lying within.
it wasn’t love that had a place in her heart,
it was her cravings,
tendencies that ripped her apart
and long ago, took the blade to her soul and began carving.
layer by layer, shaving,
little by little, hallowing.
until there was no love to be made,
nor none to be had,
and she became accustom to putting on the facade
that she was nothing short of glad.
she lived with the emptiness
because she knew no other way,
and she learned to love the loneliness
that came after they had had their way
and left her after they had said all they had to say.
she lined her poisons all in a row,
in alphabetical order they did go,
one by one, they made her glow,
twice as high until she was three times as low.
lower than low, she plummeted, she sank,
she knew how to swim, but her mind was blank,
wiped clean by the poisons she drank,
she had no one but herself to thank.
my heart, it’s broken,
but you’d never have guessed for i left those words unspoken.
my life, it’s shattered,
but you’d never have guessed for i never showed what really mattered.
do you know why a true writer writes?
it’s because they come to believe in their sleepless nights
that it will cure their souls and heal their hearts
after the world has blatantly ripped them apart,
and maybe i’m a fool cause i’m starting to believe it too,
but that’s only because of you…
nostalgia is my poison
of memories that are finished & done,
but having the few are better than none.
the reminiscing has just begun…
this gives me an idea of what i want to do with my boyfriend when he comes home this weeknd. :3
seriously…i’m lost. i see it on my dash but i never know what the hell it means.