Relax
Relax
here’s a small pond
The water feels like needles pricking every inch of me
but never strong enough to rip me open

Words bring forward stars to forge a world from the ink, breathe, your heart will write.
Relax
here’s a small pond
The water feels like needles pricking every inch of me
but never strong enough to rip me open
I never kept track of our kisses.
I can’t remember which one
was the last.
The pain is not a secret.
Although I throw scarred leather
over these bones,
the angles of my heart still rip through paper
I screamed
at the top of my lungs,
but in my head,
no one heard.
I bled in a glass jar
and she threw it against the bridge
just for the sake
of watching the sky
go up in smoke.
I had to move on for the sake of me
despite the aching blow.
Rip apart this identity to flee,
outcast for needing to go.
You jumped over my heart to get to the moon,
during this leap you slipped.
I asked, how long?
you answered, soon,
to my heart so bruised and flipped.
I wanted to leave, but my body wouldn’t let me.
The strength to stand wasn’t there, and I feared to die in this house of hallways.
It finally happened; the girl’s gone mad.
It took one moment, took all that she had,
and amid the sunken stars that fell from the sky,
you can sift through them, find reasons to cry.
She was meant to bloom,
to plant her feet in the dirt and grow.
She can’t get comfortable,
but wants to throw out
a sober retelling of emotions.
Fill my lines so you appear busy.
Mundane tasks
They look important,
but they are
not.