Woorden:
Curl Up And Die

and every road leads to nowhere as they said the things that would one day come true. and as we laughed our blessed memories came crumbling and our paths

feathered and face woven with beauty, these limbs are crumbling. This is the again and the two dressed so innocently. An empty palm and another back

You're not what you'll become. You aren't how you'll end up. With opened holes growing exponentially into my head. Until we feel the fall, so we don't

undeceiving. Nothing comes out so simple. I notice I tore these wings with my own hands. Everything separating me from what is life. Entwined in messages of inexistence and

of your body with his and the sound of you sighing and sharing our moments without me.) Every night I dreamt through your every encounter. And that morning

into mechanisms and diagrams. she found me upon lonely traveled roads wading through these unforgiving waters. through the unfamilar voice of acheivements and

anything. 'Til we're not around anymore. and there is this hum in our heads and we're exhausted again. Screaming sound that goes on and on and on and

, we're just alone. Like a drug company's overdose. Trying to replace our heads with holes. We're missing days and spending weeks. Only passing through looking for company. And

was never meant to be today. Window panes colliding and worried drips of sweat that have fallen from my chin. The devil devoted and she brought this