Write This One As A Comeback

We all have these roses in our chests, yet the thorns are lethal. This has all led to aching bones that taste of salted excuses. Our bear trap hearts serve as a constant reminder that the floor is only dying to be the walls, and we are just dying to be in their heads.

Our eyes met like accidental sunsets. Their pupils backfired, like blackened ink blot tests. We bared witness to locked hearts, docked hips, and rebound thighs. These were all the result of the faint taste of their bittersweet words on our tongues.