Wordle 442

What is a demon if not a man
churning with buried rage?
I see my future scored
by your melancholy fire.
I hear your murmurs
give way to screams
and tight-lipped diatribes.
I speak only for the sake of levity.
To say a thing
and have it mean something
might be taken as an act of war.

I don’t remember
the precise moment
when your eyes
turned to ash
only the bitterness
thereafter.
What you cannot define
you obliterate.
My soul.
My dreams.
My beliefs.

A high, breathless sigh
squeezed out through
the hole in my chest
is all that I can manage.
Chased by your idle tempest
my heart echoes like a chime.
Shrill, lonely, hollow on the inside.

I carry your smirks,
like razor blades
underneath my tongue.
In the shower
I let the water
exhaust my tears.
Tears which sting
as much as if they were
made of blood.

Love hurts
and what does not hurt
scars into carapace.
I never learn…

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sorry for the delay sick

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