I'm smoking cigarettes without you,
no matter what it's not the same. As the feeling of you wrapped around me, keeping me safe and sane. This heavy headache suffocates, and squeezes out all caught up thoughts, like when you pulled me back to kiss you, or how you left me to be lost.
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Empty out my lungs of air,
so I'm suffocated with your soul. Put your fingers through my hair, I'm your silhouette waiting to be full. |
Sydne Kilberg"She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something." Archives
February 2016
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