on nights like these, I think of you and how you left me with a paper cut heart.
tiny slits across the most vulnerable parts of the whole and I almost bled out with your back to me.
until I remembered to apply pressure in order to stop the bleeding.
you turned my hands into burning buildings that set fire to everything I touch and there are scars on my door knobs from all the times I have left and all the times I have decided to come back.
I am learning how to heal all the wounds you opened on me.
I paint the walls of my body with gentle touches.
I am learning how to heal myself.
/ / open wounds
