bleeding into each others blood, into each others cracked laughter under the impression that you can laugh no matter how sad you really are.
Looking at those bones, a model from Auswich with bones like flowers they're starting to wilt slipping into the void, weekend visits more like prison, visiting hours not family time.
The city has turned blue the ship still hasn't sailed it's stuck in your frozen city.
Fill your belly with sadness it swells like the tide on a full moon, they're coming for you whispering like trees or ghosts their roots anchoring your ship down,
making patterns out of the cracks in your bedroom walls.
No comments:
Post a Comment