i'm coming to terms with the ground again.

Minutes tick by on the clock’s second hand,
every snap beating on tiresome eyes.
Gravity completes its deviant role.
Another long day,
never the same tone.

For the second hand hits different pitches,
in the midst of this ever sullen song.
Not once has the night been jaded at all.
Keep orchestrating, and it never will.

when the clouds part to abiguity,
what is left but blind sensitivity.

When your heart beats faster than you could ever remember.

and so we find
fidelity screams
crimson decline
approaching.

(it seems like every new mars volta album something like this happens.)

then it hit him like a piece of the sky. mishap fell hard and fast into a trance of blissfull comatose. a descent to absurd, a world locked between hazed beauty and distorted reality. colour shone all about the horison and burned mishaps unaccustomed eyes. here he would lie, and regress, for it would be his salvation, doubling as his demise.

mishap thrashed loose upon all that had plagued him. Stealing what they treasured most, he sought to bestow upon them the same misery which he had recently adopted. He did not know that in this, he had not only stooped to their level but dug himself past it, swirling into a hole of selfishness and revenge. and so, our tragic hero, doused in grey ( Read more... )

i forgot what it felt like to not wanna wake up.

it's alive.

sadly we all know its time to suck it up and stop avoiding the inevitable.