toa datta
Joined May 2024
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My sweet boy
pretty boy says , I’ve got those eyes . looking into the mirror has always been revolting . I recognise her , winter leaves frost bites on my neck as the flowers in my lungs decay .The butterflies are leaving now , they left a note , saying they don’t feel at home anymore , funny how you said that the day you left . They’ve sent the moths though. The moths take care of me now . I stand in front of the sink , the ripples of water control the inevitable fire that’s growing in the pit of my sanity . I break pieces of myself to debris so others don’t . pity glazes my skin and sits on it like she’s home .
By toa datta28 days ago in Confessions