Slow motion bullet. Piercing through my heart. Bleeding out forever. The gift you’ve given me.
I want to feel it, so badly. The lightness of life she lived. I want to breath it in my blood, and sweat it out my pours. She lived for that day, when she awoke it was all that mattered. The heaviness I carry, is a dull knife. What’s left is ragged and ugly. It’s … Continue reading Polite (In My Dreams) – March 10, 2019