Cold & lifeless yet demanding in your absence.
Imaginary shackles have left bruises and im drowning.
Hold my breath in a bathtub because
silence
is obtained when your spirit can hold
water.
In your indecision to admire me i found self-hatred.
"i'll never understand you" i whisper as mascara has more courage than i do.
It runs from where it sits & again i am
naked.
Hatred turned into lust which in
black and white
is synonymous with love.
And like all the stories should have ended
Alone
seems better in the end.
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