your bones aching, fragile, breakable. awkward, not so gentle reminders that your body has no time for you, that your body didn't ask for you. you, the pathetic, moronic ghost that hides in the shadows of houses, who pretends to be someone completely impossible while expecting people to believe the pretenses you shove towards them, are utterly insane, yet blissfully unaware of the insanity. and it is beautiful, in a way beyond imagination, yet not a single soul understands the pain and sheer terror that once racked through you as you drowned in icy thoughts*
[i.k]