you tell me to free myself of my chains even while you rattle your own. you are bound to your old ways, i am bound to skin and bone. the truth waits in haunted alleys mistaken too often for home. the beaten flesh hungers for tenderness, a heart-shaped garden, overgrown.
i miss you so loudly. the whispers of morning and your delicate hands, wisps of hair sweeping against my face as i dig myself deeper into you. i will not go softly. i tell it to anyone who listens ho
he says that he's afraid to commit so he breaks my heart just a little bit the funny thing is i've come to expect it his subconscious routine which perfectly fit i sat clean and pretty for six hours s
i've exaggerated you in my head i saw love where it wasn't yet you broke my heart gently in your bed and cradled me, soft against your chest in the morning, you fed and kissed me and when i turned aro