i probably shouldnt be saying this but i really can't resist:
if we were to suffocate right here in this velvetly air, i probably wouldn't even care we would watch our things, our posessions, our valuables float into the atmosphere as we continue to breathe in the sulfur, ladies and gentleman, prepare to say your last prayer
we were designed to go this way, i swear
is this really what it takes to make us feel human? is this really what it takes to make us feel alive? i don't know why i'd rather die than to hang on every word like it was your last
i really don't mean to sound like such a bother but it's just that i can't seem to figure out why i even bother.
and hey, everybody has those days and everybody has those nights like the ones where i lay staring at the ceiling til i feel like i might stop breathing because i don't know who to call at 3 in the morning because i know your sleep is more important because the only trace of "i love you" can be found underneath your finger nails, i can still remember your breathing your skinfolds, the tiny little details but each dig feels sharper than the last because i don't like to write in the last few pages of my notebook because i actually don't want my story to end
but here we are
we're dying in the street we're struggling to breath and i can't feel my heart beat that's what i wanted, right?