Intentionally Untitled



For the Hopelessly Hopeful:

It’s us…It’s always been us.

We, who –
Abdicate the surface to love so deeply with our souls;

We, who trade our lungs with bated breath for organs filled with Their smile instead.

We, whose veins are filled with the persisting scent of the lasts’ betrayal;
Who release our past through the same vertical nicks that we’ll shelter our future.

We, who have a self-destruct-button of a heart.
We open up our veins expecting to bleed blissfully.

Idiotically. Repetitively.

We forget about the shock, the damage and the shut-down.
We end up fiend-ing for warmth in the palm of Their hands.

———— We end up anemic.

This is the first poem I ever composed! I was inspired by an aspiring poet on Twitter…I can’t find the poem or the poet, but a.h.–thanks for kindling my passion!