21-06-13; iv.

i could dream, but i wouldn’t.

breathing against your shores
of ice and the howling of the rain
against my eyelashes.

i could scream against the silence,
i could beat my fists against an
ocean that would keep on drowning
as the world kept on spinning.

i could draw in the whims of the birds,
bees and angels of a neverland that
i’ve never visited. i could breathe, but
i would choke on the weightlessness.

i could die, soak my skin in the wishes
and lies, breaking in my skin like leather
shoes. but i wouldn’t, in case i left a scar
battering against the hearts of the world.

i could live, but instead i’ll move slowly on.

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