i’m a bottle suppressed, stuffed with dried up tears and dreams that remain as dreams, words unsaid and crumpled up thoughts, neatly folded emotions and everything that othe
the tragedy wasn’t found in the uproar of the deep blue with which its crescendos supposedly meant to overpower that of the voices it wasn’t in the silence casted, kissing t
only when you stay awake late enough can you hear the sound of daybreak, a town slowly coming alive as you wonder if you still are you count every breath you spend staring
