I fell out of love with myself as others fell in, stumbling
Through the winter of my life in search of a body bag
Or the percussive clatter of bones beneath the façade of a porcelain doll,
Pretty & perfect with empty eyes to cast upon the world.
my body was made to be carved into something beautiful.
the dizziness threads in & out, veering in & out of consciousness,
my eyes are brimming with psychedelic stars.
I am alone, cold & wanting, awash in
the terrible potential for human connection.
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
I fell out of love with myself as others fell in, stumbling
Through the winter of my life in search of a body bag
Or the percussive clatter of bones beneath the façade of a porcelain doll,
Pretty & perfect with empty eyes to cast upon the world.
my body was made to be carved into something beautiful.
the dizziness threads in & out, veering in & out of consciousness,
my eyes are brimming with psychedelic stars.
I am alone, cold & wanting, awash in
the terrible potential for human connection.
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