we are not your lovers, we are not your friends. fuck what you believe in, it's the end.
wow look at me actually getting shit done for once? anyway, girlfriend introduced me to band. this happened today. mm.
It’s pouring. Fire, hailstone, brimstone - you don’t know what half of those words mean and you’re fairly sure you’re meant to be running by now, but you’ve let yourself stand against the crowd.
They’re battering against you, elbowing your back, short toes kicking the backs of your calves. Running past you, easily, the swarm trying to find shelter under their homes, the cold brick towers towering over them.
Someone grabs your elbow, pulls you forward. “What’re you doing, Lyd, c’mon.”
You take a breath and everything hits you and this is the end, you think to yourself, running, following Cay, becoming caught up in the swarm and gripping onto her hands as hard as she’s gripping onto yours, each pounding footstep on the gravel matching in time with your heartbeat. Your breathes whoosh past your lips, your lungs protesting with every second that passes, ticking on your old Mickey Mouse watch, the red band echoing the closest piece of fire that just landed.
Your legs are full of red marks from where the lit stones have bounced, hitting against the pale flesh.
You’re wearing a short skirt and this was the wrong day for it.
I actually kind of like this which is weird, dunno what to think of it, really. Wanna write, can't write, sick of everything being shit. idk. but yeah, look at me doing something other than whining for once.
It’s pouring. Fire, hailstone, brimstone - you don’t know what half of those words mean and you’re fairly sure you’re meant to be running by now, but you’ve let yourself stand against the crowd.
They’re battering against you, elbowing your back, short toes kicking the backs of your calves. Running past you, easily, the swarm trying to find shelter under their homes, the cold brick towers towering over them.
Someone grabs your elbow, pulls you forward. “What’re you doing, Lyd, c’mon.”
You take a breath and everything hits you and this is the end, you think to yourself, running, following Cay, becoming caught up in the swarm and gripping onto her hands as hard as she’s gripping onto yours, each pounding footstep on the gravel matching in time with your heartbeat. Your breathes whoosh past your lips, your lungs protesting with every second that passes, ticking on your old Mickey Mouse watch, the red band echoing the closest piece of fire that just landed.
Your legs are full of red marks from where the lit stones have bounced, hitting against the pale flesh.
You’re wearing a short skirt and this was the wrong day for it.
I actually kind of like this which is weird, dunno what to think of it, really. Wanna write, can't write, sick of everything being shit. idk. but yeah, look at me doing something other than whining for once.