My heart has burned up, and every word you pour down my throat is acid singeing the periphery to a black crisp. The edges are cracking and falling to the floor at my feet, mixing with tears in a long river of tar. I knew this day was coming, and had braced myself for the inevitable dull ache I expected to follow. However, nothing could have prepared me for the corrosive fluidity with which you weighed down my collar bones with your apathy. I was ready for the aftermath, but was slapped across the face with all the befores. It's easier this way, isn't it? Two liars pretending we have nothing to lose by pretending we had nothing at all.
1 comment:
wow that is depressing. but in its anger it is beautiful. the final throws of a phoenix before the fire...
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