The ache has juat become a lingering envelope on my soul
That I'm ready to lick shut
As you do with wounds
Taste the pain till you bleed from your tiny taste buds
Let the lemon of life sting
This future of love is one my mind cannot condure without contradiction of self
Like I must mourn
Till the only thing I'm good at is missing you and losing myself in translation and disappearing into a universe I never loved you in
Because what more can you say when you loved somebody then the curtain falls on a bridge like you're watching some indie film. Just credits made of dandelion seeds taking room somewhere else.
Swept up by the broom of the spring equinox
Warmth in drinking with friends and strangers as the flowers bloom when not looking in their superposition.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 3:12 AM UTC
The ache has juat become a lingering envelope on my soul
That I'm ready to lick shut
As you do with wounds
Taste the pain till you bleed from your tiny taste buds
Let the lemon of life sting
This future of love is one my mind cannot condure without contradiction of self
Like I must mourn
Till the only thing I'm good at is missing you and losing myself in translation and disappearing into a universe I never loved you in
Because what more can you say when you loved somebody then the curtain falls on a bridge like you're watching some indie film. Just credits made of dandelion seeds taking room somewhere else.
Swept up by the broom of the spring equinox
Warmth in drinking with friends and strangers as the flowers bloom when not looking in their superposition.
