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worse;
August 22, 2011
I buckle up the belts of inexhaustible frustration that line this broken haven of mine, swollen with the unbearable fruits of complication, of stringent misunderstandings, of crystalline truths that shatter in the sunlight and melt in the moonlight.
I do not feel the burn when the flames begin to lick at my skin, and as I stare up towards the sky, with dried tears dotting my crackling cheeks, I quietly whisper a prayer with hollowed eyes and an empty heart, for things to right themselves again, for you to come home again.
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