This is not heartbreak, this is the quiet terror of being alive - pouring everything you had into a void you pressed your lips around inside your dreams. It licks the honey from its love-stained edges and tells you how it loves you between the sound of gnashing teeth and only when you redefined your idea of music did those jaws stay shut forever.

I’m not here to regain my sanity, I’m here to regain my friend.

I go to bed with a beehive in my chest
and leave honey out on the nightstand,
hoping to dream of you again.

—  7-weeks//Heart-hollowed (for when love did not break you but took everything you had.)