morceaux

ankles are breaking. the rain was grey like the mountain wind. what am i supposed to hold on to? say hello to hydrogen. characters and blood, nothing i can touch. the greatest dream come true is no longer enough. this is imaginable. this is wish fulfilment. this is a day, not a box that fits in my palm. if i concede defeat, can we please begin drafting our treaty? it feels good, feeling sorry for you.