Status Updates From The Yellow House

maybe home is not where wanting ends

…to breathe is a haunting.

how does love work in our lives and why does it never fail to break the skeleton within us.

we bit each other until we bled.







some time before the night began.

the words i wanted to hear were:
your body is a haunted house
so i could close the windows
keep the winter from my dead

(i’ve cried thrice thus far)