Cruel saints
Spoke like whimper dolls
And wished the world more
Than what it was
Loft and mind
Comes crumbling every dawn
When the bell tolls morn
Reality shakes our walls
Those hands of a dreamer
Calloused wrists or fitful lids
Fit in that hollow
Of your chest so easily
And warm breath rather suits
Cold air, rather than lips
Tender sleeves never could
Keep our fingers from wandering
. . .
The pages of your soul
Decipher
And fall apart
What terror
Lies in our hearts
Decipher
And fall apart
What terror
Lies in our hearts
12:51pm, August 18th 2013
I can tell if you’re a dreamer
By your scars and sleepless stare
Rather break than repair
Something that’s too lovely to lose
And I know the feeling of
Giving up for fear of loss
Yet we can’t stop hurting
So we search for that something more
If our family and friends ever knew how terrifying our thoughts were
They’d be more scared than we are
