Climbing up the furnace to the hollow gate of heavan,
Itching for gloppy sunshine in the cracks of your stomach.
Pour it out, pour it out; the thick fervor of negation;
Climbing in the window through your ears,
Hearing, yearning for the stained glass.
You know, it’s okay to die.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
Climbing up the furnace to the hollow gate of heavan,
Itching for gloppy sunshine in the cracks of your stomach.
Pour it out, pour it out; the thick fervor of negation;
Climbing in the window through your ears,
Hearing, yearning for the stained glass.
You know, it’s okay to die.
