angel winged devil

peace came from three am word collisions of childhood trauma that were being held together by you

a yellow bandaid box at the end of the bed.

god. how much I need you.

your on a flight now to use up the rest of what is left.

I should’ve given you more but it was a simple cut. it wasn’t tho. the wound got deeper. stitches are needed.

still

what am I supposed to tape my heart up with. I can feel it tearing every time I hold my breath.

I want the darkness to consume me but I can’t help but feel the air run through my veins. I want to lay with a lifeless heart palpitation