Rats Eye

I don’t mean to close the door
But for the record my heart is sore
You blew through me like bullet holes
Left stains on my sheets and stains on my soul

oucu:

new balance
MRL996 #white

“Wasn’t it better if they kept this desire to see each other hidden within them, and never actually got together? That way, there would always be hope in their hearts. That hope would be a small, yet vital flame that warmed them to their core— a tiny flame to cup one’s hands around and protect from the wind, a flame that the violent winds of reality might easily extinguish.”

I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2am, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
Anna Peters