Fictive passion

Has it not always been this way? You holding onto me and me not knowing what to say. Hasn’t it always been this way? Firefly nights and falling without hesitation. Fearless fallacies and pointless pretending that nothing is making us what we are but ourselves.

My hands up to the sky an yours down in the dirt, seeking fault lines to fall apart from each other. Making our way out of memories made before our time. How much breaths do we breathe before the trees fall down on us? How many tears do we kiss away before the sun comes back to stay.

Praying that this lapse goes away. I wrap my heart around you and lead my flesh astray. Infusing the wrath of our existence, your life fades.


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