naiyun

You taste like decaying leaves and October's bad habits- when it’s halfway through February that still haunts these bones. I have allowed you to claw your love into my arms and chant into my uninterested ears for much too long. I wish I was one of those girls who could say wild flowers grow up through my nooks and my crannies just to tear through my skin, screaming. I’m just that dead eyed deer on the side of the road dreaming of shoving a pen down my throat and writing these verses inside out. I am no scribe, prophet, or spell caster. I know it. My skin knows it. My pen knows it too. Years and years from now my mind will d