Darling your flesh is painted crimson, a monochromic version of the sky that overhangs our dirty bones. My answer to you, to the last thing you ever said to me, is of course. Of course I cried for you, I cried for hours over the loss of your body against mine. But the salt in my blood felt so heavy, and my lungs felt so god damn light, I thought I would fly up to the world above me, and hit my ribs against the rim of the clouds leaking violet onto my pale skin. I could feel the weight of the world upon my back, I could feel the sunflower fields sprouting beneath my feet. Darling my bones they ache with laughter, they shake with the common fear of never touching the world again. I can hear the the sky dripping down my back, I can feel it burning me from the inside out. But I will not tell it to stop, because my soul needs to write. And I will write on, untill my words set fire to the world inside my chest, and my lungs paint the world they feel across your crippling mouth.


Sad, creepy, love, broken, broken heart, lost love, nature, personification, relationship, scary, eerie, poetry, prose

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Cory Garcia
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