Thursday, 22 May 2014


       Peaceful, haunting, visionary.
We go home every day with memories filling up our pockets and photos hidden in our irises and no one ever seems to notice. The days pass and the nostalgia lies behind your eyelids and the important things lurch in the safety of your carefully entwined rib cage. The things we don't say are forcefully choked back; the things that were once on the tip of your tongue become uncomfortably lodged in your throat. The only truths we dare to whisper are in darkened rooms and through intoxicated pupils. You'd think it was more than that, visionary. 

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