the sun burnt itself down in your eyes
the day i tried to recognize
your footsteps as they walked away.
people only say goodbye if they want to see you again
and you didn't utter a single word when you left.
i wish destruction was at least some form of creation,
but there's nothing beautiful about tearing yourself to skin and bone
in search of the hometown you labeled your soul-
a place i would return to
if i could find it again.
YOU ARE READING
horribly beautiful ✔️
Poetrypeople write about things that do not happen. they will romanticize this world in hopes of filling themselves up. they write like their words are food. but i have always written to empty myself completely. i will romanticize feeling nothing. jun...
