a soul like rotting wood

November 13, 2013
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you might always have yourself convinced that things are better this way.
and for all we know, they could be.
but I know for a fact that you were scared.
and to this day,your hands still shake
at the thought of your foundation being ripped away.
so you play it safe.
but this false comfort is sucking you dry
and you refuse to admit it to yourself,
blinding yourself to the faults in your foundation.

the leeches on your skin steal your blood,
replacing it with poisoned obedience.
how can you dare call that love,
when your dreams are deamed as childish aspirations?

love is not written with an asterisk.

i won't forget that night
or the taste
or the feeling.
and the warmth of your kiss
in the cold, still air.
as smoke swirled behind us
and moved towards the sky,
the rest came crashing down.

it's way too easy to get used to being unhappy.
to get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

with a soul like rotting wood.
and a heart like an empty home.

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