iheartpirates

I often wonder what it would be like if you were mine. We could lie together, I would hold your hand, Stroke the hair from your face, Place my lips upon yours just because And at night I could wrap myself around you And sink into our love And drown myself with your skin. I think about knowing every line on your face, Every scar on your body, The way your hair falls across you while you sleep, And the noises you make when you settle, And sigh, content to dream in my arms. And I catch myself wondering, And I have to tell myself No. Because you could never be mine. I would be yours.

Once, I believed that someone would always love me. Now I know that I have seen too many movies And read too many books with pretty endings. Now I know that instead, what happens, Is that you meet people, and love is fleeting, And you are left scarred by them. There is forever an imprint on a heart that whispers of the night he held And told you he loved you for the first time, There is forever an echo that remembers the warmth of his fingers Trailing down your spine when he thought you were sleeping, There is forever a shadow that dreams of the moment you cried because he was his love was so tender And you could not believe that this was rea

It would seem that she has retreated once again, Slunk back inside of herself And withdrawn from a world that scares her. She does not remember the last time she felt flesh upon hers But she remembers that it burnt intensely And that she could feel nothing else. More than anything she dreams of skin. She imagines pale skin and long dark hair falling over her in waves, She sees rough hands grabbing shoulders And fingers more used to metal than skin caressing collarbones. She creates eyes she does not remember the colour of, But with sleep they are the most haunting blue, And they do not stop staring While he touches her, And tears her with his

The warmth of your skin terrifies me. I am so used to the cold.

There is something telling in the whites of my eyes, In the hollow of my spine And the curve of my wrists, A creeping seeping drowning in mist. I look at stories that my body tells, Silent whispers and little bell Tolls and red lines that chart history, Fading to white telling his story. There is a weight in my chest that I cannot remember not being there, A heavy compression exhaustion pulsing, it is a lair For all those feelings that I reject and deny, A home for every tear my body refuses to cry. My hands are cold, and white, and broken From promises to myself I never kept and from choking On the lies I have fed myself just t

I remember when I knew what skin felt like, Pretty echoes and whispers that traced my flesh And burrowed into me, And night time was long and beautiful. Now my skin is cold, and it craves the warmth of another lost soul, It desires teeth and tongues and murmurs And subconscious dreams made truth Without a sound. Now my skin is dying, and it needs the reminder of life and lust, It needs soulless cravings and bad tempers And red marks and panting breaths Afterwards. I remember when I knew what skin felt like, Sorrowful cries and abundant anger are now, And the only touch my skin feels is the cold, sharp sting of Metal. The night

There was a time when the only marks upon my skin Were the ones you put there. Soft and red and tender Bitten bruises of flesh and lust Telling stories of our darkness and passion. Now my skin tells other tales, It struggles to contain its pain, And becomes an epitaph for my soul And it bleeds, How it bleeds. The lines on my ribs reflect the scars I have thrust upon your heart, And the whispers on my thighs Are the tears that I cry at night when I am without you. You cannot save me, I do not believe that there is much that is truly left to be saved. I am a blur of patchwork and stitches and sharp edges and blood And I am try

There are certain things that I cannot stand, Certain things that just kill me inside; The way you look at me when I cry, and I cannot explain why, Because you feel helpless, The way your face changes when you see what I have done to myself, Because you feel helpless, The way your eyes hollow when you know where my mind is drifting to, Because you feel helpless. And I am so sorry. I am sorry that I cannot tell you why I hurt, But the words are trapped in my throat, and I fear I will choke if I say them aloud. I am sorry that I punish myself in this way, But it is what I have always done, to make sure I can still feel something oth

I wish that I could make you understand this fear. It sleeps at the base of my spine, And occasionally it unwinds itself.  Seeps upwards and catches in my throat.  Suddenly my words seem vacant, and my eyes swell with red and wet and the fear is so startling and true that it consumes me.  Envelopes me, dragging me into coldness, making it seem that I, yes, I, am destined to be alone. A selfish thought, one of a life where you are happy But it is not because of me, A hollow, racking cry, because I know that, eventually, Everyone leaves me. And you make promises, and you beg me, and you swear to me, But no one ever stays.  And yo

I wanted to write you something. I've wanted to write you something for a while, But I just couldn't find the words. I tried using other people's words, Quotes I found, Lyrics from songs that remind me of you, But they aren't enough. They are never enough. They never fit quite right, They never feel quite right, They are never right. There aren't words, That is the conclusion I have come to. I cannot verbalise what you have done to me, What I feel for you. It will remain trapped inside, Because it can never be outside and never be true. The words will never flow for me, Never explain your beauty and your impact upon me. Nev