our lives are now a
taboo.
we didn't ask for this.
we didn't ask for anything.
but then isn't that just how this
funny, little
life
works?
my existence is now a fantasy:
I am walking in a dreamworld.
thick, black clouds of melancholia hang low over my head,
though there is not really a true cloud in the sky.
what does this all mean?
I am searching in my innermost depths
for some answers.
fire
I feel the great heat collecting in my small heart,
this circle of fire.
*Oh, Elizabeth!
Muriel's been missing,
Won't you help me
find
her?*
we are dancing on lost graves.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
our lives are now a
taboo.
we didn't ask for this.
we didn't ask for anything.
but then isn't that just how this
funny, little
life
works?
my existence is now a fantasy:
I am walking in a dreamworld.
thick, black clouds of melancholia hang low over my head,
though there is not really a true cloud in the sky.
what does this all mean?
I am searching in my innermost depths
for some answers.
fire
I feel the great heat collecting in my small heart,
this circle of fire.
*Oh, Elizabeth!
Muriel's been missing,
Won't you help me
find
her?*
we are dancing on lost graves.
for SPC