~ Pure imagination ❂☯❁ ~
Innocence is crawling on her belly
to the edge of the tallest cliff,
tasting salt, calling it bravery,
never looking down.
Innocence is opening her mouth wide,
the devourer, the starved,
but nothing fits,
and she is still hungry.
Innocence is not beautiful,
she is raw and red and relentless.
She is setting fire to herself
and swallowing the scream.
Innocence is sweating
in the dive bar bathroom,
and pretends that she can hear
her mother singing.
Innocence is dying in an unmade bed
with a faceless boy’s fingerprints
fading from her skin.
She kisses and kisses and kisses
him, but they are both so hollow,
they are both still searching.
Innocence is reborn
on a cracked city street,
and the earth is shaking beneath her.
Emily Palermo, Innocence Is (via starredsoul)