almarginalia.

lay down on the bed
hopping that sleep will come
sooner than later -
what about cuts in the shape of a star?
wrists turning red . . .
this is all in my head;
my body does not breath throught wires.
just empty spaces dressed as people.
(wake up kid you're sleepin' throught the best part -
i've lost his voice.)
jd, please, come to me again
tell me; that cuts will only make me bleed blood
pills will only make me sick.
cuts will make me feel real when nothing else does.
vidro nervoso, como uma apologética sinfonia
saltando fitas. você não precisa deles - são veneno.
hideyourpillsinsideabox.
(wake up kid, before you.. lose your heart. -
i can hear you a little now, your voice touchs deep.)
suffocating, suffocatting,
i'm suffocating
how my body feel is transparent;
but i have so much things to look forward.
o que há de bom na diluição de coisas
que não podemos tocar?


respira .

i can't