20.08.23, or greetings from the black hole
the kind of quiet you search for until it drains you senseless, but you can't stop seeking anyway. Hunting down the feeling of longing, the pining, the yearning, blood-stained teeth from the incomplete. It's me again. And the tips of my fingers don't feel anything since I burned them so bad.
I'm your most cherished odd one out - the one you still ( Read more... )
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this broke me in the best way :’) ugh.
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the first line is so captivating, and rightfully so because the rest of ur poem is just as fantastic. chefs kiss
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