To be afraid of the dark, to die a little at the sight of stars.
Your lost, frequently I stop to enhance the numbness of your void. Just to be sure that i’m real without you. I am but it aches me.
How does the lungs speak to the mind to go on when the course is gone.
When all there is before you is sore mist?
torn within wounded by the compliments, pale legs, such a beautiful lace.Thank you now let me walk the fuck away you thoughtful lady.
It’s hard to speak with the human, she only listens to the brightest of the bird’s melodies