(no subject)
a new place.
...
forgotten and remembered. lost and found. just keep to yourself what you meant to share with the world. i cant stand it. cant stand it.
...
what a ghost rises up. he tries to sleep us the day. tries to tire us the night. either way we come upon the dusk as two shimmering fireflys, lost at each others mindless flapping of wings and neon sparkle of yellow. shoot me down with a batting of hands and forget the scrapes that imprint themselves on the asphalt.
forget the liveliness i squandered.
...
from every scrap of signage
two and a half hours to where
we are supposed to be
lost in what we describe as lonely.
...
you are a choir of songs long for the swamps rising of dampness. you are six times a harlot for our purposes. you say you never met anyone like me and many times over my heart screams like a toddler for attention. nothing we try to solve through the telephone becomes solid. all the impurities we ascribe to the filth manifest themselves as baby's breath on our graves.
...
"please hear my cry for help and save me from myself."
...
through the trials and tribulations, we still come out on top. we are able to separate the fact from fiction. we are able to come to a new place. we become the paths we were meant to be.
...
we become everything.
everything.
...
..
.
...
forgotten and remembered. lost and found. just keep to yourself what you meant to share with the world. i cant stand it. cant stand it.
...
what a ghost rises up. he tries to sleep us the day. tries to tire us the night. either way we come upon the dusk as two shimmering fireflys, lost at each others mindless flapping of wings and neon sparkle of yellow. shoot me down with a batting of hands and forget the scrapes that imprint themselves on the asphalt.
forget the liveliness i squandered.
...
from every scrap of signage
two and a half hours to where
we are supposed to be
lost in what we describe as lonely.
...
you are a choir of songs long for the swamps rising of dampness. you are six times a harlot for our purposes. you say you never met anyone like me and many times over my heart screams like a toddler for attention. nothing we try to solve through the telephone becomes solid. all the impurities we ascribe to the filth manifest themselves as baby's breath on our graves.
...
"please hear my cry for help and save me from myself."
...
through the trials and tribulations, we still come out on top. we are able to separate the fact from fiction. we are able to come to a new place. we become the paths we were meant to be.
...
we become everything.
everything.
...
..
.