the static air
burns like every word
you've never said
"i hate the silence,
it's so cold"
and you're growing
colder,
too.
black holes could
never be beautiful;
please, i beg you
not to dig
and scrape at the very
foundations of
who you are
(who i love).
every drop of blood bled
sears me and
i cannot let you
tear yourself open for
lack of a better
method.
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
the static air
burns like every word
you've never said
"i hate the silence,
it's so cold"
and you're growing
colder,
too.
black holes could
never be beautiful;
please, i beg you
not to dig
and scrape at the very
foundations of
who you are
(who i love).
every drop of blood bled
sears me and
i cannot let you
tear yourself open for
lack of a better
method.
(c) noa harriott
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