(1676)

"drop your weapons,
don't leave the discourse"

well, I've thought about it when nobody's here
my hands cannot cover these shiny tears
our hearts cut in half,
my wings plastered and sore
from falling into the depth
of broken silicon.

my mind might be rotten
but I'm elegantly withering
like a burning chauffeur
in the middle of the autumn,
and will be absolutely unforgotten.