it's
fearful stutters
on lips with a lisp,
gaping wide open,
autopsy of the chest.

it's wretched.
and painstakingly
beautiful.

and oh, how I love it.

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I am covered in
bruises.
i love them because
they are proof
of all the times i fell...
in love.
i am covered in
scars.
i love them because
they are proof
of all the times i thought i fell...
in love
but something else was there to catch me.
i have scraped knees
from being dragged
thru life by my heart
because it moves
quicker
than my feet.

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