Our Weight and RopesYour life, little flowersprung outlike a snakefrom a canlungs not readyyou hit the airit hit youviolently inwhole systemsmonths too earlythis life on earthand its lightninghit and burnteverything, asnothing about youwas anywhere nearready enoughand ever so luckilyyour wings wereslow to form tooas it was allwe could doour weightand ropeswere barely enoughto keep youfrom floating awaybut eventuallyyour wingspulled back insideand years laterwe're the onesstill learningto breathe
Acrophobic it's not that i'm afraid of falling. i'm afraid that i may jump.
the things not said but felt."i want todie".with tight lips i replied;"baby, so do i".
.is it worse tohear a truth,or give oneto tell a lie,or live one
the devil's in the detailsthere’s a beautiful boy sitting on the curbof a street somewhere in that time right beforethe sun sets and his head is in his handsand he’s never looked more beautiful or more aloneand you want to tell him it’ll be fine,that it’ll be okay, that soon he’ll outrun whatever’sdoggin’ his heels, that it may seem crowded nowbut there’ll always be more earththan people, or else we’d be drivingthrough ghosts and the wholepoint of driving is to run away from them.but he doesn’t have the right kind of eyesto believe that. they’re red and bloodshotlike he’s been crying too longto ever listen to you.you don’t sit down next to him. he doesnot expect you to. he may or may notknow you’re even there. if he did,he’d make you leave because you don’tbelong with him, this angel of a boy,you don’t want to put him togetheryou want to watch him finish falling apartbecause broken things