A Letter From Your Scorpio Ex-Girlfriend

so you attained person. determine her when you were still waking up in the middle of the darknes kissing my face, actually. would you run back to your dreams and match her there? would your lips still taste of me? and those curves you’d trace on my appendages, my legs — was it my bark you were touching? and when my whisker found refuge between your paws, what were you thinking of? who?

was it misplaced affection? did you know i mistook it for medication? did you not know too much managed affection can break a person?

do you give it to her in all of its purity? is your dirty saved merely for women like me?

do you make love to her? do you fuck her? do you put on that same playlist? i wouldn’t make her for being one to get down to Deftones or Type O. your girlfriend doesn’t know a thing about metal. but i gamble she impersonates; takes up all of your likes and interests. is she malleable?

do you like how much younger she is? does she agree with you always? withdraw all your bullshit like pudding? the reek — can she even reek it?

is she soft? do you like that she doesn’t flinch in her sleep? that life has left no part of her florid and bruised? she doesn’t know anything. congratulations, your girl is blemish-free.

your daughter is sweet. someone you can introduce to your friends. to your family. sweetened in her stuffy dress when you make her home to mommy and daddy. sugared when you’re teaching her all the things you didn’t have to teach me. sweetened when she doesn’t know you’re do it all wrong. sweet when she’s acting wifey. sugary that she doesn’t know what you’re up to on expeditions. sweet when you’re trying to assuage your regret. sugary that she doesn’t know how to sting.

does she have to keep from biting her cheek at the see of you?

does she burrowed her thumbs into that bushy mole on your back when you’re about to cum? does she enjoy the ugliest specific areas of you? i felt them before i knew.

she’ll make a lovely partner. a simple life. that’s good. i was gonna personally have caused myself been squandered by reckless love. if you had let me, i was gonna personally have rubbed my knees brutal to sacred you. i would have made an idol out of you with my poetry.

will you leave her like you left me, reeling and embittered, dooming all the things she mistook for hopes? bawling the lane only a lose snowflake melted in your hands could? will you go chasing after other butterflies in the garden or will you eventually colonize domestic and curl at her paws?

no matter.

my spirit will be dancing wildly with the mad roses. fuck you for interpreting my thorns as anything but ravishing. i was the most beautiful flower. the darkest shade of ruby-red. velvet to the touch. your hands — they did not deserve me. your eyes unworthy of every stringy fibre of flesh i unraveled before you.

i know i once said you were good for me and i know i said i loved you, but darling, you know i’ve always been sick.

understand this: i never needed to be fixed. this darkness. these things. this is not weak. to still be here with all the things that live inside of me. to still love after everything that’s been be done in order to me.

when you’re lying in that berthed and you hear it — those aren’t wasps vibrating in the rafters, it’s understanding the world burst like music out of me. it’s lying next to an angel and missing the demon that glows in the night. it’s not insomnia. those are your eyes like undermined headlights staring at a ceiling slandered sallow with regret.

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Written by WHS

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