these demon days that eat up the sky and spit out the sunlight because the air is too precious to hold in. hold me down until the sea is full of lost kids with guns and the bullets are cuts that are drenched with honey and lime. those cigarettes that swollow up the death that caresses the small of your spine, please remember that everyday is a day closer to sleeping on a bed of flowers. the vodka that spills from your eyes are the tears that you covered up with drinks from the devil. please display me on the stained glass so they can remember me as the god(dess) with no true soul. I carve the initals of my sons into my ebony walls until they can revive what was once lost in their mothers body, what had caused so much agony to rise until it was chocking her. she who once danced in the rain of roses and ground of thornes is now sleeping with her back against heathens that once told her she was worshiped by many. please bring me back to reality, please save me from myself.
JUNIE.
By soothestorm
these days of youth grow shorter, while my lips are bleeding for relief. [3/3: "A COLLECTION OF: ODES TO YOU... More