The skin in my teeth

Emptiness echos in my hollow chest
cracking my brittle bones.
Panic digs in like roots causing lumps in my throat,
I crave what I will never get back,
the parts of me that died the day you said

“I love her”

My insecurities gasp for a deciduous substance,
a decaying love that was once timeless.
I inhale this fleeting illusion fed by doubt
and hide in between the smoke of a midnight cigarette
and words that fill the blank pages of my journal.

I wait to exhale.


I wrote this awhile back. Needs work.

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