claire-evelynnnnn

and so this is must be my existence, bits of paper and pencil, smudges of ink, wisps of feathers, cold paper with silent, small words that scream inside my head. I am a fractured, broken creature, slowly piecing myself together, with sand rubbing off my edges. This is how it must be, the voices that slowly tear at me from the inside, trapped between my teeth, longing to be ripped from me, only settled by the white expectation of paper, begging to be stained with my blood and secrets. I am so exposed, putting down pieces of my heart onto slices of paper, each breath stabs through me, my opened eyes and chest burning with the release. the pain