Take my hand…
Free to fly…
Need to dream…
Need to cry…
Lying in pieces,
Broke on the floor.
Blood on the carpet,
Splattered on the door.
Dreams lay shattered,
Fragile as glass;
Flying forgotten,
Burned in tattered flags.
A past long forgotten,
A future unknown;
Weighed down by sadness,
I am what I become.
Standing there watching,
Take in all you see.
Remember me kindly,
It’s too late to save me.
Standing in the balance,
Beyond all reason;
Fighting my battles
With angles and demons.
Take my hand…
Stare at the sky…
Dare to dream…
Dare to fly…















Comments
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Icon by my good friend Emma Phox, aka: Moolate
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92% percent of the teen population would be dead if Abercrombie and Fitch said it wasn't cool to breathe anymore. Repost this if you are one of the 8% who would be laughing your ass off.
Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave
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Icon by my good friend Emma Phox, aka: Moolate
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