thebearcough
the plague of love you put upon me
is tearing me from the inside,
in.
im collapsing
with a fever far from the point of breaking.
winds following you
but you can't stand to be seen by eyes that aint blue
and these are gray
and wild
and restless
and destructive.
coming up to get you.
we were destined for greater things, but we'll settle for what was given. the same things i took when i was ten, and the same things you stole when you were eight. we grew up to be less than what we imaginined, less than what our mothers hoped, but more than they ever will know. i tried, i tried, i tried.