It’s the sunset that makes it all worthwhile
In theory at least.
Didn’t they tell you in kindergarden that you are innocent until proven worthy?
The sky is so fucking big when you’re flipped upside down
There’s only room for eternity
Who broke my thoughts?
Was it you?
Goddamit, if you break it you have to buy it.
Pick up the pieces.
Glue me back together.
I am my thoughts. There is nothing without this dirty mind.
Brush off the dust.
Gently
I’m delicate.
These thoughts are fragile.
They contain entire worlds.
They contain dreams.
They are made of fairy dust and beer foam.
That’s why they call it head.
Advertisement
