• mauve_ 6w

    All I write these days is rants. Stupid rants.

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    When I start trusting people with the assembled stars that I loved embedding, the broken sky shows me why I shouldn't.

    When I start caring for people with all the blood that runs in my veins and pumps in my heart, the bloody knife hidden under my fuschia pillow as I see red dancing on the numb skin of mine, proves me why I shouldn't.

    When I start sharing smiles with people over a cup of cold coffee, the fading stains of tears and coffee over my favourite polka-dot frock verifies why I shouldn't.

    When I start pushing away all the fears I had, for people, dumping it in the blue car driving off the cliff, the seatbelt on me as I find myself sitting in the same car, tells me why I shouldn't.

    When I start loving people with all of my being, mind and soul, the dogs howling post midnight as if trying to blur away all the thunders of memories that rush up as acid on tongue, show me once again, why I shouldn't.