(no subject)
I lost count of all the clouds sometime in September
A day like any other, no doubt, grass and sticky-sweet delicious death
You still kissed me then
Folded flowers and remembered Spring
Now I keep my hands busy with debauchery
The mushroom in my eye has become a toad
Waiting patiently to be turned into a prince by your lips
Someday it will be a star
I, a supernova, you, burning less bright
Placid, poisonous, beautiful
But stars, they're just billions of balls of loneliness - never close enough to touch, never far enough to forget
A day like any other, no doubt, grass and sticky-sweet delicious death
You still kissed me then
Folded flowers and remembered Spring
Now I keep my hands busy with debauchery
The mushroom in my eye has become a toad
Waiting patiently to be turned into a prince by your lips
Someday it will be a star
I, a supernova, you, burning less bright
Placid, poisonous, beautiful
But stars, they're just billions of balls of loneliness - never close enough to touch, never far enough to forget