we’ve both gone through it
hearts in pieces, thousands
mostly dead inside
but fuck it
we’ll give it a shot
I just hope the butterflies
in your stomach still flutter
~
Photo by Ian Parker on Unsplash
Tag: Prose
small
we hide our cowardice
in insults and false pretenses
exploring the world
but never feeling connected
to the mighty things around us
.
.
.
.
it’s no wonder we feel so small
~
Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash
run
run
run through the pain
both the ache and soreness
coursing through your legs
and also the searing flame
burning through your heart
run to remember
every good moment
the love, the joy
and every bad time
the heartbreak, the anger
and run to forget
every victory won
because they do not define us
and every failed attempt
for reasons same
~
Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
salt
this particular day, dried
more salt than lake
the smell of sodium and oxygen
flowing through my nose
going straight to my brain
an intoxicating combination
but the surrounding space
empty, barren
leaves me feeling the same
knives
we tend to think
that hurting someone
is like one big thrust
of a sword, to the gut
but the worst pain of all
are the tiny little knives
often used daily
that puncture us
over and over again
until we bleed out
~
Photo by Robby McCullough on Unsplash
coffee
a time before the hurt
two souls intertwined in love
wrapped as delicately
as our hands on the china
and now that smell has faded
the beans stale
ground to dust by now
but I’d still take a trip
to a place now covered in dust
for one more cup of coffee
~
Photo by Jessica Lewis on Unsplash
