There is beauty in the madness behind your eyes. I can taste it as if my body were made entirely of tongues.
I’m sorry I make you want bad things. I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you and I complicate even the messiest of messes. I’m at the center of the cyclone at the bottom of the bottle and I can’t feel a thing.
‘Hate’ is a strong word but you use it anyway just to see if anything at all will stick. Words like knives against the wall. Throats like broken glass.
I know I can’t write my way out of this but maybe if I can get you off, I can write you in. You tell me I’m not in control of you. I’m not in control of myself and it’s a problem. I’m always the problem.
And you. You’re never the solution even though I try…
View original post 139 more words