This December; It's One More And I'm FreeThere's something about having to wear so many layers that just makes me feel so isolated from everything around me. I speak to people as we pass, walking, but my words just get lost in my scarf or in my hazy breath. Oh well.
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fairy dust: wings clippedThe grass tickles my neck, with my eyes closed it transforms into your ragged breath. Either way, it makes me squirm. Brown orbs flecked with dying leaves travel up the base of the tree. following the cracks in the bark as if it was some ancient roadway leading me to the pale, tattered blue of the sky. The twinkling chorus above me lulls me into an euphoric prison of thought. Euphoric beacse I'm trapped with daydreams of melting popsicles, discarded socks, your door locked (you never lock your door, let alone shut it). A prison because I'm stuck here in this darkening room and my eyes are wide shut. I'll be put out on parole soon, but the onlfairy dust: wings clipped
by ~airplaneCRASHES
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: 44.8256, -91.4992
- Favourite movie: Requiem for a Dream
- Operating System: Windows 7
- MP3 player of choice: Zune
- Shell of choice: .50 AE
- Personal Quote: "[An inferior poet] lives the poetry he cannot write." --Wilde
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