Fragments of Soulsspanish coffee eyes, and the love that follows.We can sleep infinitely here in the spaces designed for our hearts. Our fingers overlap in between the sheets that kiss the rise and falls of our bodies, and our lips tremble in closeness, quivering with silent phrases that cut through broken flesh and memories. Resting here, we're silent in our admission that what we've chosen is settlement, nothing more than a device to feed our hearts but empty our souls. What is love without soul but a shadow without light: all darkness and nothing to break between the spaces that define us. We feed on the fragments of souls because we're desperate to exist
Seducing DeathI.i watch her go through guys like her compulsive habitof crushing packs of cigarettes by the hour. and i feel for heras she swallows rat poison in fancy little glasses at the bar,the kind with the green olives floatinglike dead bodies in a sea of decay.she used to croon sweetly into the mic with her red lipspainted the same shade as the heart she hid on her sleeve.i follow her downward spiral as she stumbles to her kneesnight after night, when i used to believe that she'd make it,but she never said please.her voice has a choke, a mechanical croak, and in iti can hear the decay of who she used to be.i follow her home
Sta.sh
