Children Shouldn't Play With [Lost] Things
[mood| 
morose]
[music| Vaka -- Sigur Ros]
You were the school bell. You were my gas mask; most importantly, you were my gas mask.
Bye peche, mein kaltes Herz. It destroys me that someone else dare hold you now, violating your insides with theirs, taking out pieces of my own, keeping you. If I had a mind for fates and such, I'd plead for retribution. But all I can do is incise plenty and shallow, claw at cheap mattresses and have fights with the floor.
I won't be hyperventilating any more. That's unsightly. I can't afford tantrums either, not when the last bouts of torturous weeks approach. I'll be moving past the loss of you now. Leaving you, Nyarlie; my music, my it. Besides, you're turning me faux-poetic, and it's not a good color on me.
morose]
[music| Vaka -- Sigur Ros]
Click to viewYou were the school bell. You were my gas mask; most importantly, you were my gas mask.
Bye peche, mein kaltes Herz. It destroys me that someone else dare hold you now, violating your insides with theirs, taking out pieces of my own, keeping you. If I had a mind for fates and such, I'd plead for retribution. But all I can do is incise plenty and shallow, claw at cheap mattresses and have fights with the floor.
I won't be hyperventilating any more. That's unsightly. I can't afford tantrums either, not when the last bouts of torturous weeks approach. I'll be moving past the loss of you now. Leaving you, Nyarlie; my music, my it. Besides, you're turning me faux-poetic, and it's not a good color on me.