The morning is cold and the skies are grey.
For the first time in weeks, there is a few moments for introspection.
The past weeks have been fast delusional LOVE (gutter lovin, happened so fast)and drunken nights. Insanity and love have a place deep inside my heart, They say the heart looks like a fist, angry and ready for anything the world has to throw at it.
Water leaks into gutters and I'm here again, and still standing after the storm.
your place has turned into a flop house
So true, but now they have all left, on a freight train to Montreal and others in a closet waiting like clockwork for that cherry flavored poison, My heart wanted to go to Montreal, but I start school in 3 weeks and I have to kill off most of these spontaneous urges. The same spontaneous urges that keep me alive and the blood pumping through my veins. Pumping like heaven.
In the midst of love and war anepiphany called and we both sipped on whiskey or wine and told secrets of past lives and promises to meet up. My beautiful little soul sister. So young in years to be so wise and to have lived so many lives.
And last night the vampires pit closer to take more of me than I wanted to give. Sometimes lap dances aren't enough for them and they try to take pieces of your soul
And at the end of the night we were running to the getaway car and a girl I love, a girl that I have a sacred past with was screaming at me and we were screaming out our past broken lives.
And here I stand, in a place where the winters are colder than his black heart somewhere in California with a needle in his arm and my extended family all over this country, soul mates I miss but I'm here to gain the 12 credits and move on. Onwards and up. Cause sometimes writing is all I can do to help from screaming half naked and hysterical in the streets.
My thoughts come to Johnathan, on his last day muttering to keep my soul clean of all poisons. He's so far away but sometimes so close when I'm dancing with danger. In a box in my room are hundreds of love letters from death row that I reread when I need to be re-inspired and loved again. How strange it is that we might find love in the darkest of places. Beautiful and grotesque.
Yes, Onwards and up.
Love, Lily
For the first time in weeks, there is a few moments for introspection.
The past weeks have been fast delusional LOVE (gutter lovin, happened so fast)and drunken nights. Insanity and love have a place deep inside my heart, They say the heart looks like a fist, angry and ready for anything the world has to throw at it.
Water leaks into gutters and I'm here again, and still standing after the storm.
your place has turned into a flop house
So true, but now they have all left, on a freight train to Montreal and others in a closet waiting like clockwork for that cherry flavored poison, My heart wanted to go to Montreal, but I start school in 3 weeks and I have to kill off most of these spontaneous urges. The same spontaneous urges that keep me alive and the blood pumping through my veins. Pumping like heaven.
In the midst of love and war anepiphany called and we both sipped on whiskey or wine and told secrets of past lives and promises to meet up. My beautiful little soul sister. So young in years to be so wise and to have lived so many lives.
And last night the vampires pit closer to take more of me than I wanted to give. Sometimes lap dances aren't enough for them and they try to take pieces of your soul
And at the end of the night we were running to the getaway car and a girl I love, a girl that I have a sacred past with was screaming at me and we were screaming out our past broken lives.
And here I stand, in a place where the winters are colder than his black heart somewhere in California with a needle in his arm and my extended family all over this country, soul mates I miss but I'm here to gain the 12 credits and move on. Onwards and up. Cause sometimes writing is all I can do to help from screaming half naked and hysterical in the streets.
My thoughts come to Johnathan, on his last day muttering to keep my soul clean of all poisons. He's so far away but sometimes so close when I'm dancing with danger. In a box in my room are hundreds of love letters from death row that I reread when I need to be re-inspired and loved again. How strange it is that we might find love in the darkest of places. Beautiful and grotesque.
Yes, Onwards and up.
Love, Lily
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Glad the stuff in my head was some use for once haha
Xx