It's fucking cold outside. damn it.
Bright eyes
Butterfly
Sitting in the corner rocking...
Had the lights to shine
Dirty hallways, dying dreams,
Balancing thinly on a charasmatic whim...
Hardly breathing
Asthmatic air
As 365 days ago dissapears
And the echoe re-verberating in my chest
Will sort itself out
Just like all the ways it felt
And cracks in the glass
Cut through
Bright eyes
Prepared to die.