Im still saving myself from the last time you came knocking on my door. I hatters my wrists to catch myself from falling. After you left, I patched up my broken rib cage, bone by broken bone. The truth is, I stopped saying sorry awhile ago. I figured out that I was never built to be fragile. I was made from fire; beautiful and annihilating. You didnt understand that I was not meant to love, I was meant to burn. And I will light the world on fire with my matchstick heart.
Posted on: Thu, 30 Jan 2014 02:46:07 +0000