This is how you said goodbye
The past nights words were feathered hermits that passed before your quill could grasp them and tonight is no different; you have not forgotten the taste of salt on fresh cuts the sound of secretive moans of a maiden still naked in her childhood sweater you only stopped documenting the miseries that remain faithful to their vow to build you a monastery. In your best days, you make eye contact with the world with your mouth but tonight, you are afraid you are afraid there is nothing healthy to say there has always been illness in your language but there were times when poetry was sickeningly beautiful too. So tonight, you only care to be honest the way Want only cares to be honest in front of I-wish-we-were-meant-to-be but too bad he’s no longer looking forward to touch you with his own despair and too bad “I’ll get over you soon” does not stand regal to be the beginning of a swan song.
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April 2019
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