belfrey

i've always wondered just what the words were to a lost girl's ode to maybe. standing there with all the weight of the world on our shoulders. we are too young to be dying. yet you see the color fading from my eyes. we are too busy to be coddling or soothing the wounds to our ribcages. yet you can take the time to see my heart crack open and bleed in the streetlights like some pre-pubescent madonna, shrouded in centuries of self deprecation. we make out like some war hero, escaped from the depths our dungeons. barely scathed buy the gnawing in our bones to tear the walls down around us. let the building tension out by the blood of our pores. more violent rageful subtlety, the whisper of fingers across my face in gentle breezes. and we scream.

my skin burns like fire when you touch me.