Always stick to the pain
How do you run away from what doesn't chase you?
In the middle of dead butterflies that makes you smile.
Too white to fetch, too bored to care.
Who cares? The only thing that makes me gasp is my missing nude heels.
The lights! They become too blue when you look at them.
The red? Well, they remain dark.
Let me, don't hold me back kemzy.
I really want to step out, midnight brings the quiet noise of nature's feast.
Love? You joke too much to say that around me.
It's for hopeless seekers. I always say what's the point if it's not going to last.
That sly witch says " what is life if there's no chance to want and be wanted. If pains hurts, try love. I'd rather stick to the fire of it.
I want to be sure of what burns me
I want to know and recognise the feeling, the warmth.
Those butterflies, are they really dead? Are they gross? Are they things to mourn about? Because I would rather.
Should I let them mourn their wretched old man in peace or take the lead in mourning my apple and never ending hatred for the person he never was.
Why did my chair stop spinning?
Did he wake up to stop it?
Would be fun if I could see him?
Who cares? You do, I don't.
I really can't find those nude heels.
Lost, broken, that's the only shoe he should see from the ground, too bad I can't find them.
He's not going to see us.
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