the story you wroteMature

i don’t even care anymore.
i just need you to hold me in your arms.
i secretly love the way you hurt me,
adore the way you cut me open
in the most beautiful of ways.
you cut my heart out
with clawed hands and
shovel my battered soul
from its home six feet under
cloudy dreams.

you kill me in the softest of ways.

you poison me with each and every kiss,
lips pressing until fiery horizons freeze to navy blue
until my tears are only dew drops
on tiger lilies in the morning.
i need you to see every flawed inch of me
because i am the story you wrote
in ink and sins,
and broken promises.

The End

22 comments about this poem Feed