cedar

i move tomorrow. and i'm terrified.

but i know what i want. i fear the next time i bend, i'll just snap and break.














take a look at my body look at my hands
there's so much here that I don't understand
your face saving promises whispered like prayers
I don't need them
I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
as if I'm becoming untouchable
well contempt loves the silence, it thrives in the dark
with fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart
they say that promises sweeten the blow
but I don't need them, no, I don't need them
I'm a slow dying flower, the frost killing hour
the sweet turning sour and untouchable

oh, I need the darkness, the sweetness, the sadness, the weakness...I need this.