Silly boy your just dying to be tragic. Silly girl always wishing for magic.

Current mood: abstract


I have the need to run. To deafen my ears. I anticipate disappointment on a higher scale. Maybe I jump too soon. Join me on this high-rise in my head. Hold my hand and your breath. It will be your first and my last. Kiss ourselves goodbye. Vintage misery and boys just dying to be girls. Fashionista only not so flaming. In fact smoldering is more accurate. Big words from such a little boy. Go back to the beginning and walk away. Some dreams are better left alone. Deny it all - never speak. Throw them off our tail by tying the lies tight. Around our necks. You keep pumping the problems out. Even if no ones listening (were we ever). Our obsession is your devastation. Terrified to be yourself. Bulimia of the soul. This is a one way road. Be careful what you wish for is a warning a few years too late. Your wearing scarves indoors and I wearing my heart outside my clothes. One as over-rated as the other. If hope is left can we share it over tea?

“When the moon fell in love with the sun it was golden in the sky.
Golden when the day met the night.”

Twilight is hope and you are mine.