9 hours ago
One on one in the spotless draw. deafening like the thunders clap, only yielding to the wordless argument of inside voices snarling and bickering. why am i the only one who hears them? drawing grace in charcoal on second hand paper, the broken torment of faded lust, and after all the most frozen of coldest shoulders - the name carved deep into my thigh still offers the greatest advice. distractions are cures for distractions. pain: the cure for pain. bereavement theory, outdated steps and the principal of moving on. hobbling on uneven feet, the remnant of an all in brawl with gravity, defiant because the gnawing of fingernails doesn't ever seem to cease. held hostage by past mistakes, and stockholm syndrome is knowing i'll forever repeat them.