they used to whisper
behind broken alleys
that we were
locks and keys
interwined.
the weight of suffocating in this pit
of lies they put up with
is something
my chains couldn't hold
longer.
i was tarnished,
no authentic brand
of blasted metal polish
could make rust—
my rust
shine beautifully again.
I stopped finding solutions
when I knew the locksmith
faked a smile
and said that we were
ready to go.
YOU ARE READING
anhedonia ✓
Poetry❝ there was something truly wrong with her heart being so constantly exposed to disapointment. she needed to relearn how to feel again-how to breathe without restraint, how to love without having to think about the falling. because god, the fall did...
