f a d e d

Vivid images of a faded dream
A ruin of nothing
The taste of dust and happiness in the air
A ruin of everything
The smell of you on my hands
Droplets of sweet blood left in my wake
A shattered glass was all it took
To exile my love away
A shattered glass that was once a depiction
A tangible illusion left to decay
The sound of sour laughter and a thought
Why is it, that after all this time
This does not

Hurt.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

a letter to myself 5 years ago

Hey girl lots of changes ahead like you need to be warned? you think you finally came back to a permanent (for now) land you feel safe and secure after an awful year full of death and loss and changes they're still going to happen two more deaths and three more changes they will break you traumatise you give you depression and severe anxiety but please remind me in five years to live in the moment I already loved, it wasn't too scary I already lost, I'm still recovering I've lived the worst day of your life you should have been there! I needed your know-it-all ass to tell me it's okay to remind me that it's not my fault but that's just a fantasy because I know how guilty you are now even before it happens. remember that thing that haunted us for 10 years? remember those bad dreams and longful memories? we should have done something about them, didn't we? did we fail? did i fail? but what is failure? I don't know. to many...
Read more

the new drug

All hail the new drug!  It's going to make an artist out of you! All hail the new drug!  You're going to feel brand new!  All hail the new drug!  You'll finally be able to paint generic  remakes of Van Gogh and Frida Kahlo!  You'll feel alive ‘cause you're just so dead inside Aren't you?!  Your aches and pains and frustrations  Come from a very deep place in your traumatised  Nonexistent existentialist soul.  You're so liberal, political, inspirational, nihilist and existential. A product of filtered words and ideas. Filtered images and slow paced films. Non filtered music. And the same old paintings.  You're a star. You're a whore. You're a saint. You're a pig. You are everything. But still nothing. So relatable. So real. A carbon copy of a jaded idea.  All hail the new drug!  Maybe this one will really kill you!  But we all hail the drug,  The old, the banned ...
Read more