spilling ink

the night is tender when i think of you, a mouth of love with a wandering hand. have you loved me then? i think about that moment. the way your eyes undress me to see my most vulnerable state, i haven’t forgotten your expression. until i remember such sour words fed, placed upon my tongue by your mouth. i think of you in this way.

i’ve deprived myself of sleep since then with sick intent to mesh my days together so that the memory of you is faraway. an achievement of mine is to ruin myself completely, to destroy every part of me. i yearn for me, mourn for what was left of my soul. i ate from the palms of lovers who promised fresh fruits only to be met with rotten core. hunger overpowers the mind, how could i have cared when starved? when desperation is the only thing that filled my belly?

maybe my goal is to villainize you, to make myself forget why i ever wanted to return to a familiar comfort. you see, i could love again but the consequences are always near. they fear living without my existence, feeding upon my entirety. the poetic existence of you makes me want to run back, to kiss you again and again until i am left breathless.

why do you haunt me? i’ve tried to forget you, but every single time i fall hopelessly i am reminded of you. the way the bark of the trees curl upwards and pell from them, i think of how well you used them to ignite flames. was your goal to destroy a forest? if so, you’ve succeeded successfully in ruining me. i am nothing but smoulder that clings to the clothes of those who try their best to fight flames, yearning to be close to anyone who gives me the chance. their hands gnaw at their skin, pulling and peeling away.

please leave me alone. it’s so hard to breathe…