(DECAYING DREAMS AND LABYRINTH OF THE HEART.) / Love incite fears in the wail of my bones, the remnants of my ribcage is nowhere to be seen within your molars.
WON'T YOU COME THROUGH
@RUTHORE
AND UNVEIL WHAT'S INSIDE?
Pale, crimson red painted the dried blood underneath my fingertips: these are the proof that I was once loved, a sign of scarification–to love and to lose–a museum of memories. You are the embodiment of salvation, my lungs breathed your name and traces of your touch are immortalised into my skin, for I am nothing but yours. Though in a vast distance, my heart would still anchor to you: I am no longer a child in the graveyard, this longing blesses the heat under my skin. As steady as a wave, for pride or for dismay–all ends in the dirt, we are made to decay.