dæz

Hell doesn’t even compare to the loss of your fingertips in my palms. i still remember what it’s like to taste your stares, or how you’d smell after being dressed in your favorite lyrics. kissing every note like a letter you’d never send. what’s it mean to mend? when all i can conquer is a smile i try so hard to pretend.

what’s it like living without my skin filling your pockets of sin? is your treasure chest worth the price it took to make believe it’s better where the grass isn’t greener?

i found the feathers haunting the scriptures i been sifting, knowing you can’t sleep without my wings.

i’m sorry i never chased after you after you saw me at work. I should’ve called you immediately out of recovery. i could have given more than false hopes, and a misconception of what being together meant, but i’m not a comedian or a cowboy in rusted armor. i doubt you’d find the god who serves your reel.

this time, times nothing but a memory we can’t feel. i’m sorry, but you gave me too much to go and find what it means to heal. shaking off your love, so i could fight my demons in silence.

i pray for your wrists.