I endure.

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It is midnight, the moon is yellow
and we are playing hide and seek beneath the mulberry tree’s in your backyard.
We are both nervous.
There is an energy in the air that feels like needles, a violence to my pulse.
I count to nine but do not finish because here is the thing:
your heart’s already ten feet under Earth and
my tongue’s went
I dig like hell for you.
I dig till my hands are bloody and violet sorrow drips from my cheeks.
Desperation hits and clarity screams
and eventually I stop
because here is the truth:
I could bleach your heart three times over and still not wash out its mud.
I love you like hell but there is an illness inside of you that’s just not meant for washing machines.
Abbie Nielsen, How It Felt Leaving You (viapassionandcoffeestains)

(via passionandcoffeestains)