confessions: a series – part II

Don’t you get it? You wore me out.
Even if you kissed me, I’d be choking on too much blood to kiss back.
And you’d pull away and wipe your lips on the sleeves of your shirt because no ones likes to kiss beautiful dead things.
And that’s all I am.
I am all the beautiful dead things that you never learned to love the right way.

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REASONS YOU WILL EVENTUALLY LEAVE ME AND NEVER COME BACK: 

i. i am wild ivy and you are a wooden house with broken window panes and walls too high to climb. you will let me in and i will wrap myself so tight around your bones trying to keep you together, but you will get tired of feeling me there every time you breathe.

ii. i am the songs you’ve learned to hear between uneasy breaths when i would tell you i loved you, but i will turn into slurred words and ripped chords and you will finally realize that we’ve always been an off-tune melody.

iii. i am the aftermath of a storm clutching to your fingertips when you drag your hands along my skin like you are triggering a natural disaster and you will find it hard to live with dust and debris gathering mountains under your fingernails.

iv. i am gracelessly placed kisses that will turn into gusts of wind against your lips and you will never teach your mouth to embrace tornadoes and i guess that’s why you took off whenever it started to rain.

you’ll lose everything to this disorder

Your body is a canvas of color.
don’t let it bruise with self hatred or fade away with sadness.
Your soft skin has turned blue from open wounds and your ribs have marked hues along your fragile covering.

Your body is a canvas of color.
don’t let it shrink into heavy bones or wither into empty pages.
Your skin has melted away and hangs loose along your spine and your pale eyes have snatched away the beauty of your face.