FAREWELL.

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      ‘This Shard of Misery Hearths My Bones.
       On Malibu Nights: I Feel Lifeless. (The
       Special Series Caught Off Track: 21st
       of November, Soon-to-Arrive Volume.)
ㅤㅤ
Sweat soaks the blood-hot soul in flames from being forsaken. The descendent I press on piano melody at the end of my fingers and abandoned fingernail matches the sound of waves on my glasses. Glass that does not aid sight but shards of glass that cannot be mended ruins epitomising the woe of my longing. I kneel in prayer above the moon beneath the dark effluvium to retrieve it, so I’m not this crushed. Tears have become one with prayers. Such distressed feelings compel both of my eyes to wander away from all standpoint.

“How can I rid myself of this mourning when reaching you is nearly impossible?” I spoke of it as if it were memories deaf to us. My soul is marred corrupted by whiskey.

The sensation lodges in your hand or the warmth of your fingertips—pressing into my heart. Uttering words as though we are not bound. My soul is in chains. Befogged in thoughts of evanescence. Farewell it might be the final phrase you did not have time to say, still… I shall come back with the door left open, granting the gates to what is new whole in its quantum. Unsure to whom this letter will be delivered.
ㅤㅤ

www.tgoop.com/Twides/9794

596 viewsNov 20, 2024 at 15:35

ㅤㅤ
      ‘This Shard of Misery Hearths My Bones.
       On Malibu Nights: I Feel Lifeless. (The
       Special Series Caught Off Track: 21st
       of November, Soon-to-Arrive Volume.)
ㅤㅤ
Sweat soaks the blood-hot soul in flames from being forsaken. The descendent I press on piano melody at the end of my fingers and abandoned fingernail matches the sound of waves on my glasses. Glass that does not aid sight but shards of glass that cannot be mended ruins epitomising the woe of my longing. I kneel in prayer above the moon beneath the dark effluvium to retrieve it, so I’m not this crushed. Tears have become one with prayers. Such distressed feelings compel both of my eyes to wander away from all standpoint.

“How can I rid myself of this mourning when reaching you is nearly impossible?” I spoke of it as if it were memories deaf to us. My soul is marred corrupted by whiskey.

The sensation lodges in your hand or the warmth of your fingertips—pressing into my heart. Uttering words as though we are not bound. My soul is in chains. Befogged in thoughts of evanescence. Farewell it might be the final phrase you did not have time to say, still… I shall come back with the door left open, granting the gates to what is new whole in its quantum. Unsure to whom this letter will be delivered.
ㅤㅤ

BY FAREWELL.