Jul 17, 2023
I held my breath
your words, like bullets
tore through my chest
there was nothing left
just Sundays death
the metallic taste
of pain
unexpressed
the finality
seeps into me
3 am and I can’t sleep
he’s a tourniquet to stop the bleed
an artist but he’s not for me
artistry isn’t what I need
I want the one who makes me bleed
My pain turns to hate my hate to rage
my eyes close
and I see my fate
your face
will never fade
the king of hearts
fucks
The queen of spades
a silent scripted serenade
you’re sober now and unafraid
my harlequin heart in retrograde
red wine running down my veins
my patroness patiently
holding my face
her dark wings wipe my tears away
she whispers
“You did not love him in vain
he will find you someday
dust or clay “
-R
