Some days I believe that I’ve launched myself far enough into orbit
away from the pain
I buried six feet under
suffocating the tears but it floods from remembering.
The mud has soiled my heart
it bleeds through the cracks
onto paper.
Let it flow, let it go
like a river, no.
I cried an ocean.
I loved like the depth that hasn’t been explored and I was bitter like the taste of it too when all that my being was only existing on the surface of your finger tips.
