Bricks

In some parts, I feel alone.
In crevices, and cracks, hidden alleys, and abandoned streets
I realize that the world is full of words, words, words.
Words that create promises. The same ones that create lies.
And glorious stories.
I want so much, all the time.
It makes me feel guilty.
I'd drink up the entirety of my desires.
And leave everything with nothing.
I am wounded when my hands are empty.
When your love is not thick enough to be palpable.
I shall burn with my passions
The ash marking my heart, my palms, and my eyes