A warrior of sorts, since 1993.
On the first night, he touched me with hands full of intention. Lips full of love me, chest full of here’s my heartbeat for you to learn,
By Chelsea Z.7 years ago in Poets
Sometimes I miss you so much it hurts to breathe. I think when you ripped your garden out of my ribcage, you left some weeds.
I am a warrior. I have washed in the river the blood from my knees, and not once did I cringe when the cold water became one with my veins.
I don’t fall for words anymore. If you want “I love you’s” hung from tree branches and “Stay with me’s” adorning tabletops,
I’ve been told that if the tiara fits, flaunt it. And you happen to be the perfect size, so I will dance around in the night until I turn into a princess.
I hit rock bottom when I was 18 years old. I met a boy with perfect hands and a beautiful smile, and he ate my heart like he was starving.