dirtandwings

bleh. that's all i have to say.

Connect the dots from a blood red sky, That we forgot to call shining stars And we trace hazy silhouettes with the paint on our eyelids Till dusk, I wait And when night cascades and pours on frail shoulders I will spill these precious vocal chords into open drains Now my lipstick is smeared on your hands And my eyes sink deep in your pockets They are so lost I hope these clouds didn't mean what they threatened Or it's over for all of you Now I understand why they discard sealed letters The daybreak is still awake Teething with bullets, never taught how to swallow metal Bathing with knives, never taught how to swim in thick wate

Something comforting about the heart beats that surround It makes you feel alive again I can barely make out the movement through the walls This is the last time, I'm ever human again This is the last time, I'm ever pathetic again Screams are easily muffled by pleasantry and soft laughter And tragedies are filtered to blend with tooth-picked smiles Incoherent whispers dance through unfastened window sills Then somehow stumble upon the deadliest of the thorns From the loveliest of the roses and the lowest of the lives   To pierce mending hearts, whole You can ignite the gasoline and celebrate I don't have anywhere to go, except

The anticipation claws like fake diamonds against mirrored hallways Perfume evades from the cavities in her skin Stretched so thin, you can see right through Distill everything from this venomous fragrance That she keeps tucked under her desiccated tongue Her best feature, her greatest failure With hypocrisy that intertwines its strangling vines around your, finally, breathless throat Got to wait this out, just to watch you wither away Just like the golden rose that I wanted to believe bloomed for more than just friendship Thorns barely penetrate, but are healed too quickly when I was left losing blood on the other side They can

Like sidewalks moving as fast as stair steps You still manage to close the door unnoticed How could I ever think that you would wait for me Decisions are better left undecided As I'm hung from the moon, suspended by you It feels better to know that the stars are on my side Tied throat, punctured lung The palpable air will always mask your eyes I'm losing the once hopeful hope and feeling more like I should just leave you alone Make this up to me with all your many motionless voices As we fall apart again Everything with meaning must be left meaningless and dry The same smothered fingerprints With identical grey eyes to match you

the reception is barely audible between you, me and this letter so we crossed these wires, plausible and cautiously, like the tired telephone cords, that wrapped our fingers lay them down to sleep again, don't let the speed of light meet the wool this ink crawls like static, still you recognize no difference so we took our time, crossing the smooth tile lines lockers couldn't count the messenger doves sent during class then the crooked bell reached below it's cold rust to part this seperation for good and what a beautiful bell that was choking on water, while your choking on miles and you won't miss a single drop savour it fragme

Felt-tip, cursive gripping onto open letters Condescending every part of me And let your ink spill through depleted limbs You threw your wishes of complications Into an empty well, with leaking stones Listen for it hit the bottom Silence keeps you waiting like nothing else will Cast the same shadows as a suffocating mold Delete all remembrance of what came before It wasn't nearly as intoxicating Feeble words are useless against the undying ideals Don't bother trying when I'm losing the nails on my fingertips You were always more focused on breathing

This feeling can only last so long. These nimble keys can only press so far, before the fever breaks. A clocked death. A premeditated romance. I'd like to hear the difference from a single person in this cheering swarm of frustrated prisoners. Red handed wrath and tiresome argument still lays unawake, coating our virgin throats in the useful mixture of cough syrup and acidic alcohol. Her effortlessly bendable eyelashes are just beginning to tear, like the season when wings crack and the human is born, even after all of our useless attempts to shelter them. The soft spoken virgin isn't so innocent anymore. Just like in the hospital wards we vi