Friday, October 16, 2009

And you can kill us, or let us fucking swim.

All of this and your boney knees, your tired eyes, and their lids that droop over me. Eyelashes kiss my cheeks, and a thousand ghost protect me. There is no where else I'd rather be as my lungs get weak, and you constantly beg me to continue to speak. Silence won't let go and I'm still trying not to breathe you in- not to loose you in my throat, or the insides to where it leads. And truth be told, you'll never know how bad I always want your lovely eyes on me..