BY indefiniteloop

“First, there’s this over burgeoning gush of emotions; all pouring out, breaking my rib cage. All waiting, and wanting answers. That’s followed by an excessive urge to become cold, for the heart - it stands, now exposed to your weather; expecting a frosted knife to pierce through it, shattering it into a million pieces. Thus it behaves much like cold cut meat; ready to be eaten, while it pumps semi-warm blood through my veins. It’s somehow sad, and wonderful at the same time - that it’s still trying to feel the warmth that doesn’t exist, that it still beholds the want to be so vulnerable; every single time. And, all I can do is write. Write words, about you.” -

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