and dead flies.
Seeking joy in the arms of another,
but still feeling your weight around my shoulders.
You’ve broken a promise neither of us made
but I can’t not hold you to it.
in my spine
Puppeteer clique master
What false joys I have brought upon myself-
corrupting my own eyes with your digital
This is spite and hope and
Fear of losing sight of me,
but not wanting to hold me any closer.
of something you claim to want,
but can’t name.
“I don’t know what you want me to say”
That you take it all back,
we can play this game over and over.
this isn’t for you.
Not all sun’s follow cyclical paths.
maybe they do