someday, I'll become them.
someday I'll crush the air out of someone else's lungs with my carefully cultivated misery.
my assorted pains, sealed away in jars...allowed to decay until they're fetid enough to suffocate me.
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'I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show,
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down...'
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show,
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down...'
4 comments:
and someday somehow they'll decay enough to be actually good quality fermented alcohol..then you can drink them and get high...no seriously....
pent up anger is only good for being let to pile up within you and fizzle out....
the world would have been a better place if we had selective memory...
"Fetid Pains" sounds like a real man's drink. :P
cheers XD
@somdev,
yeah, i know, selective amnesia would do us all a world of good!
but it's not really anger... more like disappointment.
@neelu,
:D
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