It’s interesting how calming and serene the feeling of oblivion is.
Cold as ice and sweet like nectar ….
very similar to the feeling of loving too hard and losing all the feeling in your arms while you hold too tightly onto the one you think you need.
Now, the leather binding of his treacherous heart keeps even the delicate love of my mind, a prisoner outside of the walls of his soul.
It’s his lips that whisper secrets into my ear of promises and dreams of love.
I sit and stare at the painful connection and ask myself when the world ends: can I say that I loved?
loved myself.
loved others.
truly loved.
was loved.
the answer’s always yes, even if it burns me to the ground, there is love.
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