Most Beautiful.
IV. Letting Go.I could see you eyeing the bonfire with lust.
I know you want to burn, burn, burn those notes,
the sweatshirts, his rib cage, your heart. I know.
I know your hands perspire and your breath hitches
when you, really, you see him. I'm not insane; he is
there, you scream. (I know; I know he is.)
I know you carry boxes upon boxes of useless
thoughts and past intrigue that may have held you together then,
but now they're as sharp as knives and just as
terrifying as they were once
beautiful.
I know these things because I felt them, too,
burning my spine and burrowing through my heart.
Do not, and I repeat,
(this is not a request or something we'd highly suggest
for you do to or something we can guarantee isn't true.
please, please, please listen.)
do not close your fists around your cornered emotions;
do not let them wallow on the frayed edges of your soft mind.
Take a deep breath and scream and get him/her/it/them
out, out, out before you suddenly can't exhale and all that
flashes before your mind is the word gone
in deceitful Vegas lights.
You will be the most beautiful when your soul is free
and your smile is as bright as sunshine, so
let it go.
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