BLACK LIVES MATTER

Jan 6

you will feel at home in odd circumstances. all of your friends will change some day. as we get older, our innocence is stripped from us. so… when people make you feel at home… don’t ever lose them. you will need them for winter. as the ice clogs your throat, such words… the beauty that we swore off… the love we killed to own, the blood on your hands from ripping your own heart out… home. what’s your definition for it? maybe you never really had a favorite song until they sang you to sleep… she patched my cuts with her voice. maybe you never really had a favorite word until she told you her name– you bury those secrets on top of mountains. you shout your regrets into an erupting volcano, the fire in your eyes will burn my poetry. I used to love the beach, I used to love the sun– but memories will ruin your mood. you’ve caged yourself into a dark room. you’ve chained yourself to their phone calls, text messages and p.s. – I love you promises of never leaving. the story doesn’t end here. I promise– kinda heavy, isn’t it? Another promise. we value our ex-lovers for the growth because if we didn’t break each other… we would’ve broken someone else. so run on home. to where you feel safe. yes. some people touch you once– all it takes is a small graze and just like that… you’ve changed forever. and then there’s her. a pen that never runs dry. hands foreign to the concept of letting go. eyes that tuck the tears onto pillows. lips that forgive by just smiling. a soul tattooed into her poetry. a transparent heart– you’ll come to know that love means not alone. a bonfire’s giggle– warm. and just like that…