Gardenhead
and an eeriness surrounded when his tongue began to speak
Fresh air is fresher when you can't breathe.
You said 'I have a place to go' and it was a lie and he knew it was a lie but he nodded anyway (his ginger hair sways, you note) and let you pack in silence. When you say pack you mean you go into your room and you don't cry and you don't scream and you slip your (favourite) blade into your pocket and you're out the door before he can say your name(worthless).
You think, you can drown in a river, even of peroxide. She'll cry bleach onto his skin and he will become spotted, and skinned, and worn. You don't cry for him but you cry for yourself. You cry salt and water and not a thing that could erode so, though perhaps at your soul as you feel it is leaking.
To kill, or not to kill. You feel the knife, something small and stupid, and it's all you have left. Again? Oh, that's how you got here though. He said I'll pick you up and he did, for a while, but the thing apart finding lost objects is that they are always just that to someone somewhere. Lost. God, you claim, has lost you and without a perceived diety what point is there in breathing.
Ginger hair.
Orange and yellow always went together so well.
You said 'I have a place to go' and it was a lie and he knew it was a lie but he nodded anyway (his ginger hair sways, you note) and let you pack in silence. When you say pack you mean you go into your room and you don't cry and you don't scream and you slip your (favourite) blade into your pocket and you're out the door before he can say your name(worthless).
You think, you can drown in a river, even of peroxide. She'll cry bleach onto his skin and he will become spotted, and skinned, and worn. You don't cry for him but you cry for yourself. You cry salt and water and not a thing that could erode so, though perhaps at your soul as you feel it is leaking.
To kill, or not to kill. You feel the knife, something small and stupid, and it's all you have left. Again? Oh, that's how you got here though. He said I'll pick you up and he did, for a while, but the thing apart finding lost objects is that they are always just that to someone somewhere. Lost. God, you claim, has lost you and without a perceived diety what point is there in breathing.
Ginger hair.
Orange and yellow always went together so well.