🚪 (reupload)

your doorstep has my vestiges charted in its ledger

casting mental debates against door raps 

leaping the threshold which deathtraps unassuming victims

eroded locks from the memorisation of engulfed keys that fail to announce their departure 

waltzing through guest boudoirs in search for a permanent home

I think I'll settle my head on your pillow for tonight.

you can count the freckles on my cheeks,

I'll squeeze your hand three times.

it feels like we're not permitted to be equally as content;

the reign on your temper as tight as loose-necked dog collars.

hoping assuaging your tumult will help shift focus from how the knife angles in my back

like a sycophant to a tipped off juror.

barraging you with a litany of love; it's the only language we fluently speak

silence remains the worst thing you could say to me.

it's you that claims to be sick, 

but you elude me as if it were I who was pestilential 

you maul my brain parasitically

but you know I'll give in every time 

and I know you want me to.