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So Apropos
Saw death on a sunny snowFor every life, forego the parable. Seek the light, my knees are cold. (Running home, running home) Go find another lover; To bring and- to string along. With all your lies, you're still very lovable. I toured the light, so many foreign roads For Emma, forever ago. |
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about art.
Art is what you can get away with.
tagboard
affiliates
bridget.carine. divinia. jieyang. gabby. michelle. monica. muk. patricia. sara. wendy. PLAYLIST twitter
credits
Design: doughnutcrazyIcon: morphine_kissed Do credit accordingly if you changed the icon. |
commencement
 There was once a faint smell in this place, this hole, this bed. Of a place not measured by the wind that flew through its windows, or the people who walked through its doors. Its shadows were its arms, creeping through the nights as people slept, and lovers dove into pools of ecstasy and sin. Daylight, a misnomer, purple in its many recycled sheets across the floor. This place, I tell you, had its mysteries and forms, of a child who grew into an orphan, of hearts broken into hearts, and words you can never ever take back. Chandeliers once grand, now tacky and obsolete in the world where children went out of doors and never wanted to return - but couldn't help themselves. I tell you, this place is more than a place. This bed more than a bed. This floor more than a floor. |