(no subject)
most of the time we are synthetic girls.
hoping for sunshine to reach our deepest, darkest places.
never going after what we want.
we lure them in with our charcoal eyes and messy hair.
they never stay long.
because with one breath we can make them cry.
one glance can kill.
we roam around and around, searching for nothing.
making friends along the way, but nothing seems to make us smile.
and they always talk.
"why do they always cry?"
because there's stuff to cry about.
and we never seem to see the chandelier at the end of the hallway.
hoping for sunshine to reach our deepest, darkest places.
never going after what we want.
we lure them in with our charcoal eyes and messy hair.
they never stay long.
because with one breath we can make them cry.
one glance can kill.
we roam around and around, searching for nothing.
making friends along the way, but nothing seems to make us smile.
and they always talk.
"why do they always cry?"
because there's stuff to cry about.
and we never seem to see the chandelier at the end of the hallway.