open your eyes, bastard open them

this will not be the last time.

sirens scream your name and he's [c r y i n g]

(don't-let-her-die.)

ink stained fingertips, shy blue eyes.

an old composition notebook you'd scribble in at three am when you were fourteen-

insomniac, caffeine addicted, ugly.

relics of a life, your life

(what life?)

rust stained scissors. tools of her trade.

-wondering why-

your heart throbs with disonance, bittersweet.

(w h y m e)

who am i to remember?

-
he had been wearing a white shirt that day.