Rain that falls as dust
Rain that feels like ashes
Wasted on skin that might as well be dead
Not feeling it
Not the life of the party
My life a crime scene
That nobody bothered to report
Knuckles glossy red
Unplugged like spilled lemonade
Face-planted on papier-mâché curbs
And I didn't even get to keep the balloons
No more wicked games
This was my ship
To wreck
Just raise it from the bottomless pit
They say
Live like an adult
But I'd rather
Die like a child
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 8:27 AM UTC
Rain that falls as dust
Rain that feels like ashes
Wasted on skin that might as well be dead
Not feeling it
Not the life of the party
My life a crime scene
That nobody bothered to report
Knuckles glossy red
Unplugged like spilled lemonade
Face-planted on papier-mâché curbs
And I didn't even get to keep the balloons
No more wicked games
This was my ship
To wreck
Just raise it from the bottomless pit
They say
Live like an adult
But I'd rather
Die like a child
Rain isn't stopping today.
And I'd like to jump in the puddles, but I'm not supposed to do that.
I'm an "Adult".
Childhood series #8