4 apr, 00:47
isn't it alarming
to have such faith
in an oncoming train?
maybe I need a rest.
we could all use more of that.
lately you've been throwing yourself
into fits of fury and static waves.
you can't be shaky,
I'm shaky,
that's me.
please don't hide in the brush again.
the creeping tendrils of hanging plants
draped over your shoulders,
a cloak of twisting emerald fingers.
and you're scared,
and you're breathing;
you swell up and become the fog.
suddenly everything stops
and I am aware of where I stand.
I am here.
every inch of the skin
of succulents and small children
turns crimson,
all at once.
I had these maps in my hands
and I traced the paths to their ends
only to find that the mountains there
are, in reality, only clumps of soil.
it isn't what you thought.
these maps are all wrong.
but,
fear is not the edge of the forest.
fear is the darkest thicket, the heart.
be careful in those woods.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 10:25 PM UTC
4 apr, 00:47
isn't it alarming
to have such faith
in an oncoming train?
maybe I need a rest.
we could all use more of that.
lately you've been throwing yourself
into fits of fury and static waves.
you can't be shaky,
I'm shaky,
that's me.
please don't hide in the brush again.
the creeping tendrils of hanging plants
draped over your shoulders,
a cloak of twisting emerald fingers.
and you're scared,
and you're breathing;
you swell up and become the fog.
suddenly everything stops
and I am aware of where I stand.
I am here.
every inch of the skin
of succulents and small children
turns crimson,
all at once.
I had these maps in my hands
and I traced the paths to their ends
only to find that the mountains there
are, in reality, only clumps of soil.
it isn't what you thought.
these maps are all wrong.
but,
fear is not the edge of the forest.
fear is the darkest thicket, the heart.
be careful in those woods.
because why not
