Recherché

~ d e a t h ~

~ d e a t h ~

i've got dead poets in my lofty attic / and my bones have decided my fate for ages / there have been echoes in my lungs now and again / and i've carried golden tears in my eyes forever / they tell me i have been talking to death / but death has passed through me first / so it is not me who talks to death / it is her who is dying to talk to me ~

~ • ~ • ~

~2 1 0 8 1 8