the Purgatory of a Broken Heart

Fall into the abysmal depths

For the lovers ❤️ 💕 💗

On memory, fantasy, and the body’s refusal to stay in time.

If I could turn back the hands of time, I would place my energy where it most needed to be.

I wouldn’t waste so much time trying to seal the deal with a structure so flimsy.

But it’s okay, thank Goddess. I still have so much to grateful for.

❤️ Love ❤️

It was not love.
And it was not obsession.

Something much darker and regressive braided the threads of our individuality together to form a fantastical beast.

But I do not have to play into the fantasy.

I’m actually free, to do as I please.

Touch that is transportive, that takes you elsewhere.

Tender, full, generous, enveloping. Infusing spirit into deadened appendages. The feeling they lacked seemed abstract, but now, alive.

Insatiable. Like rain soaked soil pretending it did not need water.