reality.

this is just a body,
and these are just a pair of lungs.
this is just a heart
that doesn’t really mean much
if it’s never been
given away,
kept.

these are just feet
and these are just hands
that don’t create
but feel every bit of you
that the brain in this body
loves
so much.

these are just eyes
that see your form crawling
towards me in the middle
of the night
and these are just ears
that hear
your sighs.

this is just a mouth
that spouts useless
words and some hopes
of the soul
which is what matters
feels
breathes
beats
tastes
loves.

veins.

I feel the whisper of your hands
on my skin,
and my blood
boils in my veins
that ran cold
under hands,
shaped with lust.

Innards curl
at the thought of
your scent,
your touch,
how you felt when
I was trapped in
the cage of
your arms,
pleading silently
for you to love me,
don't touch me.

And maybe if I'd learned
that I was loved,
I could have
prevented
everything
that I can't regret,
because the false
emotions
played on my soul
made me smile
as I shivered
under your touch,
mistaken lust.

Memories play
like movies
where the girl
screams in silent
horror.
But he tricks her in
his disguise
of romantic
hero.
Don't be a
hero.

Pray to your
God,
on your knees
on twisted sheets
where sin seeped
into your soul,
into the core
of the heart
beating frantically
in your chest.

You will
be clean
again.

the lies.

Tell the truth or tell nothing.
Secrets build up in my throat,
burning,
aching,
until lies spill from lips like
ashes from cigarettes.
Keep it private,
dirty habit.

Emotions ripple
like ribbons from a child's toy,
but faces remain
emotionless,
cold,
empty.
Mouths move too quick to
catch lies,
like dreamcatchers,
catch nothing.

Untruths become truths,
as you become your
lies.
Uncontrollable,
unstoppable,
earning bruises like badges
in each game you play.
And win,
liar.

Bloody nose,
purple skin,
flowers decaying behind the ear
of a girl
with hopes.