These past few months, I've realized love and I've realized pain, I've lost all my strength and found myself again.
I've always known me to be someone who's easily molded by a single broken friendship, yet someone who's easily mended by a returned smile. And today? I think I've driven myself over a fence, a fence that'll always leave me protected, yet leave me locked away-
-the walls are high enough to filter pain, but isn't it plausible I'll forget my drive up-way?
You see, I'm just a notorious mess of oxymorons, a fool who's fallen prey to a fascinating hobby. And this? This is my story.
YOU ARE READING
• tainted •
Poetryi wonder if there's pride, i wonder, there's remorse my heart's a burning drought, my feet, a broken hose? glass beneath my toenails, are all those tears painted? there's dust behind the veils, or am i just tainted? [poetry] a third eye aesthetic fr...
