(no subject)
so i better get this sweet job with jv. haha.
I was
a disquieted child,
under the insolent sky.
Red and breaking,
dangerously.
Charting my way past bars of black
that carelessly speared the sky.
So many thoughts impaled on the cold, twisted metal.
It grew higher with new innocence and years.
Neon crosses glow brighter than streetlights and the eyes of little girls.
We could climb these dead, barren trees to better ourselves
but we would only realize the same twisting ravine and hardwood.
I've spent so much of my youth within this cement,
how could I not recognize these grounds as hell?