Oct 2013
Cower complete the bitter dream
And drape this dead desire through the streets
From crimson flush to blister black
You rot through my hands
And leave me with phantom death
And drape this dead desire through the streets
From crimson flush to blister black
You rot through my hands
And leave me with phantom death
11:43pm, October 15th 2013
For the first time in awhile I dreamt of an old friend, one I loved dearly. Everything was as it once had been, but I woke to grief not contentment. The sensation in the dream had been better than any I'd felt from reality in a long time. It broke my heart to be reminded of what I'd lost.
For the first time in awhile I dreamt of an old friend, one I loved dearly. Everything was as it once had been, but I woke to grief not contentment. The sensation in the dream had been better than any I'd felt from reality in a long time. It broke my heart to be reminded of what I'd lost.
