pieceful

8

he’s a bit of a flirt, but I’m ‘a give it a chance
I asked about his family, did you see his answer?
his hands started fidgeting, he looked askance
he’s p e n n i l e s s, he’s flying by the seat of his pants

Everything leads me back to you.
— 

The way night wraps itself around me like your arms used to. Or how the sun smiles at everything , even when it’s not reciprocated. How the wind sings songs almost as beautiful as your voice, in my ear. How we almost drowned in the ripples of fear. How ice isn’t as cold as the way you left. How playing with fire is safer than cutting myself on your smile. I’d take your bruises if you sell these bones. Anger may match the holes we hide on the wall, but it doesn’t cover insurance on broken hearts. We are two hands writing a memoir, but the ink is no longer the same.

@poetryleftbyher