How comfortable something sad can be,
how uncomfortable something welcoming can be.
I find myself clinging to heartbreak.
Oh, what a beautiful thing to be broken.
I think I'm addicted;
I am addicted to the weakest parts of people,
the parts they hide.
I crave that darkness that can only be found way down deep.
I'm fascinated by the scars one tries to cover up.
The sadness in your eyes tells a story -
not one to ever be spoken with words.
But I read it all;
you're so unaware of me devouring every undone bit of your soul.
It's beauty.
Beauty in the breakdown.
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