delayed *ੈ✩‧₊˚

i think about that last summer a lot.

slow chaos — I’m surprised you forgot. 

silent resentments, i feel it when we fuck.

you tell me, “making love isn’t deep enough”.

steadily, i love you’s start to lose their weight, 

the same way my thighs shrink when

saving myself is too difficult a promise to make.

the dissociated reality dissolves into pale moonlight.

i finally wake when the world is away.

i hate feeling off cycle —  delayed,

as if i am too far behind for anyone to understand the way i think.

if nothing means anything,

what does it matter the space i take?

i think about that last winter a lot.

stagnant pain — we seemed too afraid to talk.

silent resentments, i feel it when we fuck.

you tell me, “making love isn’t deep enough”.