O6.19.14 / O7.2.14
hold me like you're gonna put me back together,
kiss me to make me fall apart
right here in your arms
as one, we'll fall right along with the
shades of the night sky
right here,
galaxies away from our oblivion.
where we're headed is awful lonely,
cold and ugly
(except for us)
the streets there are not forged from gold,
like what we're used to,
but birthed from crushed stones...
hell on our bare feet.
YOU ARE READING
past oblivion.
Poetry"what can i really say?" used to be my words, when i didn't know as much. when i got older, i responded to myself. "everything." now, i realize that i can use my breath to speak on everything in existence, from dust on jupiter to the depths of hell...
