Careless whispers, broken promises, hidden messages slipping through my little fingers.
Seeping through and spilling forth from the cracks in my mere existence.
Bloodied knuckles full of splinters desperate to cling to what’s so tragically ended.
Bent broken sick and twisted the remnant of once pink now blackened innards.
Forever tainted without so much as a touch.
All these emotions once buried way down deep, now erupted exploding melodies so bittersweet your ears will bleed.
Crying dying faking smiling, all hope seems lost, but I won’t stop fighting.
Why did you stop trying?
I’ll die striving.
Because this life, THIS LIFE is for living.
she is artwork and glory
she smells like cherries, spilt ink and thunderstorms