Apr 24, 2020
I wanna slice
your skin
rend your flesh
with my teeth.
The envy in me
wants to devour
your light.
If no one likes
me, then why
should they like you?
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Algeria
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from South Korea
seen from Poland
seen from Ireland
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from Spain
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Italy
seen from Switzerland
I wanna slice
your skin
rend your flesh
with my teeth.
The envy in me
wants to devour
your light.
If no one likes
me, then why
should they like you?
The weight of the world crashes down on you. There is no air. You have long ago stopped breathing. Try again dear, try again. 3rd time's the charm.
A cold wind blows through your heart. How long have you been waiting? How long will you? You rooted your feet to the ground on the strength of promises. How long will that strength last? Your will is failing, heart growing colder by the season. Who you are is becoming a memory. How long will you last?
recrimination
The ocean bites at your feet
the cold seeps in
the dark drapes itself
over you,
a stifling cloak.
How many planets
have you murdered?
How many lines have
been set alight?
It's not your fault,
(but it is).
You look at the ocean
and want to drown.
You try and try, but the hands drag you back, up.
You should have said no, you know you should have said no.
The edge of the world drops off into the dark. The light in your memories is bright.
For you, it was worth it.
A city besieged by storm
and all your plans fall apart.
Hurricanes on the horizon,
tornadoes touching down.
You never planned for any of this
and all the bridges are gone.
Someone stole the sun
and the wolves of winter
come breaking down the gates.
We’re settling in to Corvo Bianco.
You used to shout your words into the void. Now, you only whisper and soon you know your voice will go silent. Have you left any traces of your presence? The flow of your words has been slowing. There is nothing new left and you have never found your path. You are young, but feel old, too old. In the dark, the thoughts crowd in, old friends who'll never leave, no matter how much you try. Your words are dry, the well out of water, the world never yours. Your voice never heard. Were you even here?