how long can you cover untruths with your grace? to fall in fragments alone is a painful sort of longing but god, you know your pieces don't match mine. every lie tastes of vodka and i know how much you like to drink.

you can hide your fires in the deepest pits of your soul, but i swear i will claw my way into tunnels of black just to shove each piece of torn paper in your decaying face and scream i told you so

stitch words into my skin that have lost their meaning entirely if you wish, i will simply move the hands of the clock until you have no choice but to give up your matches. i swear to god i shall throw them one by one into the ocean, and you can find someone else to light those flames.