Hi. I'm Lily. And I've had writer's block for just about forever. But this is an attempt from not too far back. I repeat, an attempt.
You are my mourning sickness. And there's nothing more I would love than to hear your heart beating right now. That rush of blood through your veins. That unforgiving breath of life that you stole from your very lungs. Because your wrists have a lasting case against you, one filled with bloody tales of cowardice. My eyes now loathe you. Forbidden to look into yours. Those lips once were ruby red, but it's so cold underground. They must be freezing. Blue. The color of hope in his eyes. The color I found myself staring into to replace you. And the color I've grown to appreciate over brown.