Thursday, October 27, 2011
When black looks white
and white becomes almost a green.
The butterflies in my stomach
they died.
and are now washed away
by the acids, clogging up my gullet.
discomfort
the irony
brought upon by the same shadow
but would you die again?
reject it.
i have been reborn, so i thought
I hope you never find your light
deceived
you and perhaps
I too, I swear it is hidden
beneath my flesh, caged precious with
sanity.
goodnight.
Hur Hur.
3:03 AM
