When I was 17 years old I started changing with the seasons.
My body and brain slowly rusting over once the winter started approaching.
I can't tell myself I'm not a robot because all characteristics but physical are matching up.
The ink bleeding onto this paper make up for the tears that have yet to leave my eyes,
And my tongue constantly being sharpened, by the thoughts that are instantly being turned to words, with no sorry to follow.
I still have yet to show you I'm sorry.
Maybe one day once this rust fades away.
"The ink bleeding onto this paper make up
ReplyDeletefor the tears that have yet to leave my eyes"
This part hit me
"When I was 17 years old I started changing with the seasons."
ReplyDelete"I still have yet to show you I'm sorry."
really powerful lines. this was all beautiful.