Nothing
My body still trembling from the echo of your hands, my breath still caught between your teeth, my scent still soaking into your skin like sin— and you feel "nothing"?
Love. Longing. The things we lose, and the selves we find. Where vulnerability becomes art.
My body still trembling from the echo of your hands, my breath still caught between your teeth, my scent still soaking into your skin like sin— and you feel "nothing"?
A veil lifts between healed and hurt— I see the poison clear, but the broken in me still drinks. Awareness is a tortuous curse and that's the cruelest ache.
Love breathes beneath the weight of a beautiful misconception.
I loved you once— not here, not now. My soul remembers what this life forgets: you are not him, and maybe, you never will be.
We're all addicted to something in life— a habit, a heartache, a fleeting high. You chase the storms that break you apart, I chase the echoes inside your heart.
It took bare vulnerability colliding with inner courage to finally expose her Emotional Nudity.
It wasn't all bad.
You held on to me just enough to keep me there,
Unconditional love was never in the receiving,
Grief is the cruel proof that love remained long after everything else left.
Perhaps becoming begins with the quiet decision to come back to yourself.
I don't crave to be the person you can see yourself with.
No words here just yet. Try another feeling.