Dipping down; fractured sanities & rose petals on milk
How easy it is to cover up your filth, with a layer of smooth, smooth flowing silk - oh
Falling; blooming - eyelashes raking the insides of souls
It used to be cold, but now - heat rivulets dance under the arch of my soles - no
Merciless, merciless trickster of distress - why, oh why did I fall into your traps?
Call my name again but I'll fall down the last steps, you've taken my hope and my little bit of hopeless
You must be talented if you can make me indebted to myself, honey. And that's exactly what you did.
You took and took; & I gave and gave.
Even the things I didn't have.
So much - that I'm starting to wish
I didn't live to regret it.
― S.M.
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Aphasia
Poetryaphasia; /əˈfeɪzɪə/ noun. inability (or impaired inability) to understand or produce speech, or express thoughts verbally. poetry book with writings that i can't put into words / rants / personal opinions on matters that matter to me / things people...
