alyssamoore
you're the brick in the middle of my chest and the one at the bottom of my lungs, weighing them down while they fill with water. you're also the brick used to build the house around me. and i hate that.
lockjaw, locked doors and locking eyes to not know what's going on beneath them.
a manager to manage her. a manger to lay her head in. and some air for her to breathe. icantevenbreatheanymore all i can do today is listen to the smiths and hope
i'll level with you: this fucking sucks. i don't get it. try to see from my point of view. i did one for you, now you do one for me.
it sure has been a while
there's something always boiling under the surface; hidden beneath just far enough away where you can't see it- but so you can feel it. so you can know it's watching you and heating up everytime you come near. and everytime you touch. sun's got nothing on you (nothing)
the root of all things is where you stand; the root of me is your eyelashes in the light and the root of the trees in the night is your shoelace when it comes untied. don't let me uproot you but let me. just let me love you. the root of all things is where you stand.