12.14.17

if you asked me to describe myself I'd say I'm blank pages and black ink staining lined paper. I'd say I'm rose gold dripping down a mechanical, iron heart. I'd say I'm a heart that continues to grow despite the fact that I'm a full-grown adult. I'd say I'm a hurricane through the sunshine, a constant contradiction. I'd say I'm a Cheshire cat smiling in the middle of a dark forest filled with nightmares. I'd say I'm a book sitting on a shelf, completely untouched. I'd say I'm failed relationships and too many apologies. I'd say I'm ripped notebook pages. I'd say I'm a fragile glass cup with far too many fingerprints, forever unclean, always touched, yet never broken. I'd say I'm an alarm clock set for 2 PM on a Saturday. I'd say I'm a heart with sharp teeth, constantly hungry and never satisfied. I'd say I'm everything and nothing, all at once.