Katelynplz

hold our breath so we don't make a sound figures of black creep into light holding the heads of their enemies up high in the air shivers go up our broken spine as the hues of red become visible we long to scream and run away but that's just how karma works

through the window pane, through the dreary glass from outside my window, the world turns to ash the bright glow of fire, the smoky fog overhead convince my subconscious that i'm better off dead let the smoke fill up my lungs so i can no longer speak 'cause my words are so old they could be an antique watch as it spreads through this ghost of a town i don't give a fuck let it burn to the ground

trafficking hearts across the border holding tightly to our weapons so we're not caught off guard by our opponents reaction

birds chirp from within my ribcage playing the xylophone on my lungs saints become sinners in a game of chance with every breath, the clock ticks by chance is fate, and fate controls chance perjury keeps us a bay, but we're left asking why why we feel alive when we're clearly dying dying for the irony that was thrust upon us as we make a mockery out of the stars we're laughing, stuck, in-between the bars screaming will get us nowhere, silence will drive us insane but deep inside, who's to blame?

wishing on shards of broken glass that are cutting through my veins famously adrift in my own train of thought too bad it's crashing cold air pirouettes on exposed skin motionless in a sea of green mixed with the rusty taste of red overflowing into oblivion