some days, the sky seems to fade into an endless abyss where the walls are slippery and crash into thorny roses; and this is where i will try to come and climb out of it and get tangled and bloodied in the process.
and when i fall down there is no getting up for there are punctures in my heart and they come with poison ivy.
there is no reason for the blisters in my lungs and the fractured ribcage. they are purely there because i cannot escape a mind full of thick oak trees with wild roots.
sometimes i feel as if i can't dig myself up from the dirt and my feet are grasped and pulled down lower and lower; barely breathing, i give up so easily.
i wish there was a way out of this pit.
FRACTURES
By psycophant
in between the broken glass and other breakable things More