I want your downfall, your corruption, your lonely throne, your violent slumber. I think about you as love lost to a closing door, and I’m full moon howl. I’m ocean grief. What a privilege it is to break loudly. To have been loved at all in all this chaos. What a privilege it is to daydream our own blooming. To stop paying the rent for this pain that’s made a home inside of us. To put an eviction notice on its door. To turn all the lights on in this heart of darkness, this body full of rain. I almost imagined you as a body leaving, and like that you came back to me. I’m sorry it took so long. What a privilege it is to be a war ruined by love. To be a battle ruined by grace. My quiet angel, my gentle surrender.Do you know what emptiness you’ve killed just by existing?
Y.Z, you’re all honey and none of the sting (via heartcountry)
