+ I can lay in a corner for days and not be awake. In these 4 walls I am occupied. My body somehow molds out of shape and into whatever form the brain takes and sometimes I find myself to be a beautiful expensive chandelier, or a rotten couch with cigarette stains. It doesn't quite matter which one. Both are flawed, but have their place. I sip my tea and look as dainty as my mother wishes, but it never quite matches my interior - ragged, scarred, metal bits, and leftover lovers infiltrating scar tissue. It's okay though nobody has to know. That is until they get heavy with ambitions and all the oceans come crashing down.
+ Waves are slicing through my lungs. Right on schedule love. You have come down exactly when I felt you would. The sun is berating through my curtains, red thick - resembling blood clots, firing away at my retina. Too much, too bright, too risky. And I wish I could erase the sky only to leave it panicking. Black, distant, and comfortably in tune with me.
+ Waves are slicing through my lungs. Right on schedule love. You have come down exactly when I felt you would. The sun is berating through my curtains, red thick - resembling blood clots, firing away at my retina. Too much, too bright, too risky. And I wish I could erase the sky only to leave it panicking. Black, distant, and comfortably in tune with me.