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Apr 2016
There's an earthquake going on inside me, my chest is the fault line, My stomach is a shoe lace factory, andΒ Β a tornado decided today was a great day to do tornado things.

Ya know? It really ***** when your lungs turn to vacuums and not the good kind, the kind of **** when you can hear sand knock around trying to find a way down. There's a sandstorm in your lungs and all you need is an inhaler, but breathing is easy so you don't need an inhaler.

My mom taught me how to handle this. She handles this.
She taught me cold weather can freeze this over.
But when this fails it can turn into tar and we know that tar is hotter than ****.

Are you aware that it doesn't work out when your stomach becomes a shoelace factory and a tornado happens to do tornado things?
My mom handles this. I asist.
Her guts turn to strings and don't do very gutsy things.
Her pancreas called in sick.
That was 3 years ago.
Her cheeks aren't very cheeky.
Her bones show through her skin.


Every now and then I feel the ground start to rumble and I wait for us to fall in.
She's my inhaler.
punk rock hippy
Written by
punk rock hippy
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   Lior Gavra
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