GOOD INTENTIONS, BAD AIM

I have fields of forgiveness blooming underneath my tongue.

you pull the roots off me and hand it over to me full of messy contradictions and half-hearted apologies, plant them in my rib cage and claim me as your own, whisk me away from everything that i have ever known.

There has always been an abundance of love thrumming in my chest. 

A caged feral creature, that has never learned how to put itself to rest.

My heart a cluttered behive of a thing, forever yearning to make everything into something sweet.

Forever wanting to be something everyone 

yearns for.

My veins are like rivers that empty into an ocean in my chest and you tried to drown me in my own waters.

I am still learning how to swim in this body, still trying to fight the riptides that bring me back to you.

Look at this tumbled mess of a girl, all stringers and  good intentions and bad aim. 

i have yet to figure out how to love quiety . 

I dont know any other way of loving. 

How does it feel to wake everyday and love as though the world was burning to ash around you.

As though the sky dissapeared, and the sun died.

Thunder roars in the deepest distance and you wake up with rainwater in your hair, but the windows are closed. maybe it has always been closed.

I dont know what i would do with this love if i was not digging it up out of myself for you.

I have given my love away for so long, that i am not sure i know how to hold onto it anymore, how to keep it from slipping through the cracks of my fingers?