❝ all you did was dwell into the sea
of smoke you brewed ❞
love was from the moment i had set my eyes on you,
only to tear my insides into shred of hope your music filled me in but something was distracting,
maybe it was the death sticks your lips p...
thantophobia (n.) phobia of losing someone you love.
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there he walked with his heart in hand, still beating but still haunted.
aimless was an understatement you would spell in his might, he was everything but alive.
he spoke truth that ruined lies, still the stick between his slender fingers lied him of hopes.
the hoops of blur he smoked were nothing but ill-fated trials, the ash was a sentimental peace that helped him reconcile.
but he never knew it discarded his insides, making him hollow only to be filled by the space of addiction.
addicted was all he was, he smoked only to let go, to forget.
he played the black and white, monochromatic tiles of the piano only to feel surrounded by the symphony.
his mind was occupied, no space, blocked, no escape, not even a small hole within the bricks to allow the light to escape.
still he was oblivious that an aim awaited him within the course of 4 years, someone not virtuous enough who would designate the time as a waste, but to him it was the years of epiphany, the years where the tunes of random musical pieces visited him.
those little pieces were nothing but letters that stood on his doorstep in halcyon, waiting for the fine shreds of envelope to be torn and read a loud.
those pieces were nothing but the admiration of a pure soul to a damned one.
