fawxs-writing

[fawxs-writing]

theres a feral wolf hidden inside my ribcage

its snarling and chewing against the bones that trap it inside, im on the constant edge of letting it out, to smile and laugh as it rips and destroys everything around me

but i cant

i dont want to let it out, i dont want to let the anger course through my blood and curl around my bones like vines

i bite my tongue until it bleeds, the copper taste keeps the wolf at bay, if i let the anger consume me then ill damage everything around me

i dont want to hurt other people, i dont want to fight petty with being petty, i try so hard to be understanding of people

and yet

they still try and play games with me, to poke and prod until i bare my fangs and im fighting the urge to dig them into their throat

im getting so tired of being the kind and understanding one, i want to stop bending backwards to not hurt other peoples feelings

i want to let the wolf out, to go back to being that silly 15 year old that could make others cry with a few choice words, to laugh hysterically as they break apart because they *deserved* it

but wouldn't that mean that they won? that i really am the terrible monster they make me out to be?

theres a feral wolf inside my ribcage and its getting hungry

[fawxs-writing]

i have always craved warmth

for the sun to kiss my face, sunbeams warming my bones from within, the intense heat of a bonfire at night

i was born in spring, the cold leaving and beckoning the warmth in, for flowers to bloom and snow to melt

and yet

i have always felt cold, always chasing after the fire people ignite inside of me, of course it could never match what you do

i am an old hearth covered in layers of ash, countless bonfires roared in the spot that occupies my heart

i love so intensly and warmly, i give people every ounce of care and compassion i can, making excuses and swalling bitter words at half baked apologies

i am so scared of the cold, to only have myself to keep warm, to be doused with icy water and never able to light a fire again

im damaged, so inherently jaded from so many heartbreaks, i dont want to hurt you with them, to singe you with the flames that i allow to curl underneath my skin

i want to gold your hands, to feel the way they perfectly slot around mine, to hug you and feel everything dissappear around me until its only us

i wanna always feel the heat of a blush crawl up my face from seeing your smile, i wanna do all the 'what if' scenarios i have planned

dates and plans and the things i wanna do with you under a red light, i want to love you and cherish you, to whisper praise against your skin and feel so completely overwhelmed with how breathtaking you are

i wish you could see yourself how i see you, how kind and caring you are with me, your goofy humor and your awkward ways of comfort that somehoe help me feel better, your deadpan looks at all my shitty jokes and the way that your incense is intrinsically connecter with safety

ive always craved warmth, isnt it funny that i found the best source in the middle of winter?

[fawxs-writing]

is it sad that i miss you?

i miss something we barely even had, i can feel myself biting back tears, taking in slow shuddering breaths of air

it hurts but at the same time it doesnt, so many things are the same yet different

ive been overworking myself to try not to think about it, if i do then i will tear apart my own skin and curl around my cat sobbing

i cant afford to break apart

instead i work all day before collapsing in bed, ignoring my dreams of "what ifs"

there is hope like a burning ember in my chest that i cant put out, a hope that maybe you'll be ready eventually, that i wont be forgotten about once again

ive always felt my emotions completely and intensly, both love and rejection, i feel like a contradiction feeling them both at the same time

im afraid this isnt fair for you, to wait on the sidelines casually, all ive ever wanted was to be well, wanted

i want someone to come to me at the first sign of trouble, to say "i need your help" i want to be needed and useful, to earn the trust and love they give me

i always feel so unworthy of your time, you have so many friends and two partners that you could give that time too instead, but instead you give it to me

i just, i dont understand what i did to deserve it

[fawxs-writing]

i have always been a writer, every letter written across my pages meant to express a story that ive created

oh ive tried to do other things, to put a paintbrush on my hand, the lend of a camers over my eyes, and i like to think im fairly good at it

and yet

words have always been easier, an innate knowledge on how to press down my feelings into paper like dried up flowers

you on the other hand, you're more of an artist then i could ever dream of being

your hands are covered in graphite smudges, the calluses between your fingers perfectly fitting a pencil, the very air around you smells like ink

i have always had the ability to find metaphors and analogies for the words i cant say out loud, but you?

gosh, i know you and understand you like a language i dont speak, no matter how many pretty words i put on paper, they will never be able to fully encapsulate the way i feel about you

you hold my hands and paint them in blues and greens, putting a backdrop on my skin as i leave intricate words on yours

we are the same sides of a different coin, you make me at a loss for words yet able to describe the most beautiful of fantasies

do i give you inspiration like you do me? when you see the way i smile at you like you're a supernova do you have the urge to put ink to paper?

you make me want to create a story of us, how we light fire in the air between us, how you're constantly running around my mind

i was always meant to be a writer, and im pretty sure i know why