"   You have my permission not to love me;
I am a cathedral of deadbolts
and I’d rather burn myself down
than change the locks.   "
Rachel McKibbens, “Letter From My Brain To My Heart” (via larmoyante)

Swaying on a ledge 

that marks the border between

the known and the unknown,

you stand alongside the footprints of another.

The craters carved into the rocks

resemble the crevices engraved into your palm.

Gripping onto the weathered skin

of the wilted flower, dying from

a lack of connection to its roots.

The cliff overlooking a thick layer of fog

that you’re too scared to part from

is wasting away some of the best years of your life.

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