His love was a poison: soft and loveable, hideous yet touchable.
September 2015
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Read more: untitled post 913
ten miles
two hearts
your hands
on my heart
tugging
pulling
lashing
from afar
the way you stood
an hour
yet a thousand
too fara world apart
words by dominic riccitello -
Read more: untitled post 917
I’m not thankful for being fucked over, I’m thankful for what I took from it. What I learned. What I taught myself in that particular moment. I’m grateful someone was able to take me there and let me be in that moment – not with them, but with myself. How my emotions could surrender to someone and make me feel everything I felt. It destroyed me, but I made my way through; and I look back years from, and I still love him, I do.
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Read more: untitled post 918
the pretentious tore my soul
ate my heart
lied upon my spine
and held me so far behind -
Read more: untitled post 921
how you stole
my soul
on the eleventh day
the eleventh hour
played on swings
jumped in desire
only to save yourself
from the crumble
the burns
the wrath of your fire9/11/13
words by dominic riccitello