Thursday, 10 March 2016

I wish we all could make it

On Thursdays we wear sadness like  a suffocating cloak that threatens to put out the light of our very existence . I've crossed oceans to be able to stand here and the ground is giving way to my feet and no face looks familiar except that of death .
I've left promises I've broken to myself under my feet as I'm walking away from them,breathing in the smoke of burnt perseverance , I've lost the road on the way home , and it's raining uncertainty and clouded with a chance of corrosive heartbreak , didn't I tell you not to break down my walls,  they were to keep my demons from devouring the earth after tasting my soul and declaring it dead. Didn't I tell you the girl with the copper skin will tear away your resistance,  didn't I tell you sin would consume you, didn't I tell you to forget her and the poison she made you eat and called it love. Don't save me sugar , there's no saving the dead.

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