In writing the letter I’d hand to you,
I thought back on a lot of things
And yet, as beautiful as you are,
I couldn’t write a single word
But why is it that way when it comes to words?
Why do they turn to lead-like lies?
Why do they turn to aimless birds?
Why must they be dirtied?
(Source: sociallyretardedloki)
Succumbing to dizziness, I dreamed,
A daydream with everything crammed in;
What I wanted to love, and wanted to love me,
I stuffed it all in, until I was empty…
