Can you hear the humming ?
I. so let me tell you the story about my undoing:
there are still fingertips bruising my body
even in the calmest of nights,
the calmest of storms.
II. this will be a story about a girl
that mends and sews broken hearts
and not only on paper.
III. i can still hear her laugh
echoing and vanishing like smoke
( just tell me where you are.
i’ll trace my fingers against all these years
and i’ll live in your skin again. )
IV. i have never learnt how to love
without breaking bones;
the only people i have ever known
only stayed long enough
V. writing is like
and i am willing to shred
my veins open
if that means