grow everyday.
self-destructive.
stretched over you like telephone lines, my skin, my fingers digging in so tightly.
my pulse, weak and feeble, communicating all the musts and don’ts.
and i could speak and you could stutter and we could
have breakfast and talk about all the things you have loved,
while i just sit and feel empty and rush through what could be such a connection
listen to you sigh, breath, cut ties.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Bright eyes
Fading young eyes
Beaten to black and blue
Sunrise has been sinking since I was two
One wounded and another dead
I’ve spent years building these walls
When all of this time my sky has been falling
Burden to bare this anger is empty but heavy
My heart carries the weight of your world
My wounds are open
I am out of blood
"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
— Dylan Thomas (via unnamablerevelations)Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
(via bangst)
