1682.

Your heart is a sieve
that always sifts and leaks those
feelings of others.

1681.

If only we could
go back to when I believed
I would be enough.

1680.

Just because I wear
that certainty on my skin
doesn't make it real.

1679.

His arms are a cage
I place myself within. An
attempt to forget.

1678.

Why do you believe
the person with just questions
will have your answers?

1677.

The progress of the
world's assimilation is
making us Stepford.

1676.

We are cannibals,
devouring the tender
insides like sweet meat.

1675.

I tend these scars so
abrasively that they will
not heal. Memory.

1674.

You are a drug that
feeds the same senses getting
numb. Heart extremes.

1673.

All these petals in
bloom seduce as a prelude
to steady murder.

1672.

We are so scared of
shadows as monsters that we
forget the ones seen.

1671.

This brain keeps jumping
the track between head and heart,
so just stays crashing.

1670.

Anxiety a
constant state in which only
loneliness resides.

1669.

My heart is lodged in
the underbelly of all
those lost emotions.