if I gave you pretty enough words,
could you pain a picture of us that works?
an emphasis on function rather than design
aren't you tired cause I will carry you
on a broken back and blown out knees
I have been where you are for a while
aren't you tired of being weak?
such rage that you could scream
the stars right out of the sky
and destroy the prettiest starry night
every evening that I die--alone
I am exhumed just a little less human
so much more bitter and cold
after all these images of pain
have cut right through you
I will kiss every scar
and weep you are not alone
then I'll show you that place in my chest
where my heart still tries to beat
aren't you tired of being weak?
such rage that you could scream
the stars right out of the sky
and destroy the prettiest starry night
every evening that I die
live.love.burn.and die.
||atreyu||
pinktoenails