i.
cold fingers ran down his spine
and he knew what was coming.
now all he can do is scream.
the choking smokers and choir
boys dont stop to stare there
anymore. theyve learned to ignore
the signs.
ii.
hes a polaroid picture thats
been preserved, sometimes
he smiles but sometimes he
cries.
we can see right through him.
iii.
he once told me that he wished
he was a bird so that when things
got too hard for him to handle he
could fly away.
i just told him that running
away wouldnt fix anything.
(he didnt reply.)
iv.
he use to be the boy with the
sun in his eyes,
but now hes just lost.














Comments
--
Just so you know I am
--
"Where the spirit does not work with the hand there is no art." - Leonardo DaVinci
--
my boy builds coffins he makes them all day
but it's not just for work and it isn't for play
he's made one for himself, one for me too
one of these days he'll make one for you
--
my boy builds coffins he makes them all day
but it's not just for work and it isn't for play
he's made one for himself, one for me too
one of these days he'll make one for you
--
Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
My youtube [link]
--
I've always known that I'd be trapped;
the world outside no longer shows.
And here, within this dream, I'm caught...
the Lady of the Blackened Rose.
[link]
and i really like the title too.
--
we will fold and freeze together far away from here.--
my boy builds coffins he makes them all day
but it's not just for work and it isn't for play
he's made one for himself, one for me too
one of these days he'll make one for you
--
my boy builds coffins he makes them all day
but it's not just for work and it isn't for play
he's made one for himself, one for me too
one of these days he'll make one for you
--
my boy builds coffins he makes them all day
but it's not just for work and it isn't for play
he's made one for himself, one for me too
one of these days he'll make one for you
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