There's an extremely thin line between life and death for people like me.
The people who are constantly worrying about something, constantly being pushed under water while others scream for them to "JUST BREATHE." It's a little difficult to breathe underwater, don't you think?
We are the ones standing, arms out stretched and the wind causing our hair to be as wild as our hearts, standing on the edge of a steep cliff, far too high to see what actually lies at the end. (If there's an end at all, we never know, honestly, for those who go never return).
We are the ones drinking toxins and the skies precipitation with a shot of vodka, we are hopeless. But fuck, we are so full of hope that everyday when it gets brighter, the sun gets a little lighter, we think.. maybe.. Only to be shoved by something- anything. Back at the edge we find ourselves.
{too overly everything to properly function, actually}
YOU ARE READING
bones
Randomi wrote this when i thought love was the look in his eyes rather than mine.
