Wisp-of-thought - ♡ It Aches Softer Here ♡

And in the end, is it not the desire for beautiful things that destroys us all?

~gold sinks easy, my poor king midas

♡

"Give me a smile sweetie"

And I have always been good at

Giving until I break

So I grin until my teeth crack

And I choke on the shards

Of every sharp thing

I was never taught

I did not need permission to say

♡

The sky bleeds pomegranate gin

And no one dares lay sutures

Across the cusp of her rebellion

And so we sip second chances from

The sewers and wait for the

Wound to clot with sticky fingers and

Stained lips dripping hollows

Gorging ourselves on handfuls of grief

From the gutters, carrying our mother's rage

In our bellies until next rainfall

♡

When I think of stars I think of

Music notes falling from the sky

I think of each of them hitting

The skin of the pavement in a series of

Shattered promises that echo like gasps

Accidental harmonies

I think of melodic dissonance

I think of the collective inhale of rhythm

Rewiring our heartbeats for single

Shared moment of apology

♡

When I think of clouds

I think of forgetting

Perhaps in another life

I could have told you why

But I can no longer remember

♡

Afterall what is my existence but

Circumstantial evidence

For my body aches these days

Stretched thin over the skeleton of my

Mistakes, waiting for sin to split

Skin and bloom across the surface of

My doubt

♡

synonyms for meaningless // 03.31.21

I wonder who I could have become if I had been loved.

the song of achilles is a story about the heartbreak that happens once in a lifetime, the heartbreak that kills you and drives you mad, the heartbreak you wish you'll never experience, the heartbreak that tears you apart until you lose yourself.

circe is a story about the heartbreak that you endure every single day, the heartbreak that consumes you from within, the heartbreak you know you can never escape from, the heartbreak that is so much a part of you that you don't even know yourself without it.

im sorry guys i just finished reading these two in a week and now idk what to do w my life thanks

I have this reoccuring dream

In which I am loved.

That is it.

That is the poem.

Short.

Because it never lasts

It never lasts.