I don't quite know where the lightswitch is, but I know that the dark is much more friendly.
Sometimes I dance with a ribbon lacing my body, and it feels like the last day. The string gets tighter and tighter,
and I am cut into a million pieces, but it's so dark. So have I really fallen apart?
In the dark, all sounds the same, and the whispers. Yes, the whispers. They're hushed and urgent. Like water rushing into my lungs, they take root, and evaporate.
I've been going up, up, up
and I still haven't see light.
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC
I don't quite know where the lightswitch is, but I know that the dark is much more friendly.
Sometimes I dance with a ribbon lacing my body, and it feels like the last day. The string gets tighter and tighter,
and I am cut into a million pieces, but it's so dark. So have I really fallen apart?
In the dark, all sounds the same, and the whispers. Yes, the whispers. They're hushed and urgent. Like water rushing into my lungs, they take root, and evaporate.
I've been going up, up, up
and I still haven't see light.
