we are made of porcelain
and glass;
of our shattered hopes and our
choices
that build upon us
one by one by one
and then we
c r u m
bl
e.
falling apart into the
tiniest of tiniest
of pieces,
of our shallow
dream screenings.
we are cameras;
we are projectors.
we take and
we give.
we love and
we lose.
ashes in this
capricious
fire,
smoking
red-hot,
white-hot,
too hot now,
burning our fingers
and tongues and hands where
we reach out for similes,
where we join,
become one with the
undead.
captivating.
unflatteringly delicious
i am addicted to you
to this v e n o m
that impregnates
the very air,
contaminating my soul,
my heart.
i left you
and i lost.
i love this [beautiful]
pain.
i love this [beautiful]
heart.
i love you.
YOU ARE READING
motion. | completed
Poetrythis is the backwards story of how i [lost my mind] fell in love. lowercase intended. #83 in poetry | #150 in short story | 14-11-14
