we stitch these wounds


I was in bloody love with you once; 
the kind of love that bleeds without remembering
where it cut the flesh into pieces 
before stitching up the wrong wounds 
when we were alone.
You were the kind who lived 
for making me small - like you had to
justify why you were with me. 
Bloody love. Bloody you. Bloody me. 
You took as much as you could get and 
I think I’m coming down. 
Bloody love and bloody you: as good and as bad as each other - 
I’ll take my blood and my love for myself 
that it took me too long to earn
over you any day now.
It took me too long to learn.
I know better now.

when the wounds aren’t stitched

when the remains aren’t beautiful

when it’s only some of your hate

when heaven is a bitch and doesn’t call

when love is finally fair

when god don’t bless you

when old people drink whiskey

when you just ain’t bulletproof

when it’s not done for you

when it’s not the fucking end

when your damn heart isn’t on fire

that moment when they don’t die for you

I may have seriously hurt myself before from moshing too hard and running into the side of my desk…