The carnage of hearts,
discarded in the bracken
broken brachial arms and arteries–
This phantom wound still aches
with the sting of salt water,
And limbs that once danced,
once reached to you–
I cut off parts of myself that never grew back.
The carnage of hearts,
discarded in the bracken
broken brachial arms and arteries–
This phantom wound still aches
with the sting of salt water,
And limbs that once danced,
once reached to you–
I cut off parts of myself that never grew back.
Good Intentions Gone Astray
stories of my life.
Blushfire
Blushfire
Blushfire
If you stick around long enough, eventually I'll bring out the wine
Blushfire
