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Book of Faces
I’d rather see you as the bright light that you used to be, than the faded star leading me astray. With misguided steps, I was losing myself. And you, you were always walking away.
The memory of what could have been is all I have haunting me, tearing out the stitches in the wounds of my heart that used to be. Every rain cloud paints my name in the dead sky, and I, I can’t move on when the downpour’s drowning me out.
The winter stiffens my skin straight, so i can stand up while my faith evaporates—but my shoulders are weighed down by the taste of your name. I thought it would be so easy to spit it out, like love never crossed my tongue, but it’s stuck in the back my throat and its cold and alone and it’s dead and it’s gone—blinded, bound down, faded, numb
with myself. with my life.
but im making progress, slowly but surely
Fold me in, tucked away I’m starting to think I never learn what I need to learn all things pass we bruise skin holding onto things we shouldn’t be allowed to keep Make them proud dredged in guilt call me when the miracle reduces to coincidence.
My casted wings are almost stubs now… I can’t feel a thing… just like you promised. I was always bad at being good, I was always bad at being good, I was always bad…
There’s no hell more harsh than a memory. There’s no home more hell than an empty nest.
im going through my old files and stuff and i came across a letter that i wrote to You. I never sent it..
Why?
Its got to be what almost 3-4 years now….
do you feel the same?
do I feel the same?
i do know that after reading it i remember the exact way i felt, what i was going through at the time, and the reason why i was writing it out and on my way to send it.
but i didnt…
what about now?
should i send it…
if i was going to send it then whats stopping me from sending it now.
i dont know
probably the same reason for why i didnt send it…
check your mailbox..
broken hearts want broken necks