i still do not know
whether i am a void of feelings or just a child who shut the door to his pain.
lest you shatter
sometimes you know you'll never get back up if you recline.
sometimes it feels like the only way not to cling
is not to care.
don't you find it funny
how desperate we are to feel? — what a great story! (i cried eleven times)
he burns his lamps to hide
just a couple heartbeats — a couple each night. a couple blue shots of bad blood they say it does the trick.
we, others, them, think we're lost, broken, and afraid
is it so wrong to find our own way in the darkness is it so long to put the pieces back together in a new fashion it takes a great amount of fear to do these things it takes an immense amount of courage to believe in them
see, she was
she was an ocean. say, oxygen oxygen is overrated. watch, roses blooming beneath the caress of brine blood cells unfolding. a certain lightness
life is a melody, a meandering song, exquisite and jarring, glorious and ruthless. we sit upon its strings, tightropes in a windstorm. better dance whilst you can before we all fall off into eternity.
the more i have to say the less i end up saying. i want to live our life again so i told you i love you.
ink is the same color
as a certain canvas when you look hard enough you can almost see the stars sprinkled in there