these words are forced to my mood.

im so sick of these mirrors meticulously isolated yet always surrounded.

i have nothing to say that wont get me into trouble.

your frost is a punch to the gut.

these days are covered in thorns.

my tears fall short escaping my eyes.

but we try.

and we fail.

so we try some more.

and together we shall see what time is made of.

Reblog / posted 1 year ago with 2 notes

  1. franksicyhot posted this