“You’re playing connect the dots with the open wounds you left on my heart. So I drown myself each night, only to surface again in the morning gasping, choking on your name. You have a hidden agenda but you’re storing it in the most obvious places, and you’re laughing with the Joker but I don’t think it’s funny. I’d ask you to settle down but I know there’s no point. You’re wound up like floss, weaving yourself in and out of my smile. Push a little harder and I’ll start bleeding. You typically dish out your love in equal portions but I want a second helping. You give the second helping to someone else and they eat your heart out. I don’t know where to keep these pieces of you that got left behind. Your suitcase was too full with knives and pills and pieces of her and pieces of me. I think about all the things you’ve said to me everyday, and I remind myself that I cannot hold someone to their words when they are speaking in theatrical soliloquies. And now I’m searching for you in everyone I meet. But apparently you only get the chance to meet with the Devil once.”
—
causings || so I’m on my way to Hell to find you. (via wnq-writers)
@izzy012819 dude right in the feels
