I know that I can help you (I just don’t fucking want to)

by suicidallyanonymous

It hurts to love her;
the broken girl
painting red in your eyes,
telling you to stop
[stop breathing, love].

She’s not leaving without
breadcrumbs and false hope,
because she’s got
the hands of gravity.


Tattooing your larynx
with the absence of air
[leaking velvet into sledgehammer palms],
she is a hot-air balloon
with fire and fabric
in her sharpie hair.

If only she knew how
to fly.

2 Comments to “I know that I can help you (I just don’t fucking want to)”

  1. Trying to pinpoint what I like about this. Is the truth in it? the easy flow of unusually combined word images? the tinge of wry humor? Probably all that and something I can’t pinpoint…which makes this all the more intriguing.

  2. I agree, its a very strong poem which i’m lost to get to the bottom of.

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