[ mondays consist of me looking into the mirror and repeating my name till it feels foreign on my tongue like your lips ]
but darling i'm a stranger to myself in the mirror
i breathe for tragedies
i need the emotions the chemical imbalance the excited electric impulses to spill words (in a shade of grey pink to be exact) across my notepad but this always happens when i'm chemistry almost dozing off and not at two am when the roaches are partying how do i encompass everything into words
we talk about wars
and killing ourselves with so much dignity
pouring acid down our throats
till we're burning
drowning in love
till we're suffocating
calcium bones aching
till they're cracked
murdering (your dreams) day and night
till everybody's dead
cleansing ourselves
till we're holy
injecting chemicals in our veins
till our minds are euphoric
living beneath the duvet of blue
till you can't remember the illuminating yellow
overusing metaphors
till my throat is parched
aiming for perfection
till we're screwed (talk about bravery)
scratching your skin
till it's septic (it's time for a doc)
killing those bastards
till you make it to the breaking news
aiming for spirituality
till you realise you don't have a soul
making love (fucking hard)
till emotions run dry (and you don't even know what it means to be naked)
fuelling hatred
till it's the only emotion left
and my god that's some classic tragedy
all you have to do is be mine smoke a cigarette and i'll write you tragedy babe
(this was supposed to be the last chapter but i decided to make it the second last one, yo. also, the format was supposed to be very different and i spent three hours on it and wp glitched everytime i fucking give up)
