(no subject)

[somariot]

i've moved from words to colors.. so many bright thoughts crowd my head that they only work their way down my limbs, through my fingers, and onto paper if by means of a colorful marker. it doesn't feel the same, though.. until i speak with him. and the words i can't write come from his mouth and i'm freed of these chains that hold my language hostage..




and just like that i'm his beautiful wreck.