The thrill is all I’m getting right now. Allowing you to fill the holes you poked in me. Giving you back what you already took but yet found time to find them to give again. My words turn into mumbles with no concluding paragraph, no thesis, no importance; just words spoken from the heart you broke. But now your back.
“This time will be better,” you say. Words so strung out I feel as if they may crumble into particles before me. What to believe? How to believe it? Seems like even the hate I cover with love just to get the thrill of you being there to hold me, console me, spoil me then leave me lying on the floor you pushed me on.
As my heart vents I listen. Writing all the words it can’t speak but still knowing that it has more left within it. Soft music plays through my ears as I wait for you to hear from you, knowing you may never reach me in time but its always the thought that counts.
These are my hearts words. Spoken from a broken home, a body too young, a mind to old, a life so innocent but yet pain doesn’t seem to care and hurts it anyway.
I’m in it for the thrill. Eff the happiness.