433
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433
death always rings someone's door that tries so hard to keep it hidden, while my door is wide open, with a big welcome sign and so many arrow signs that leads to the doorbell.
433
we lost our right to belong to this planet and before the last heart stops, before the final light fades from the last set of empty, glassy eyes, they will enlighten me.
433
i’m the last one listening in the wreckage of a species that decided it was better to be cold than to burn for something it could no longer name.
433
1:57 i know they’re there, somewhere in the spaces between stars where the light hasn’t been shattered by our inventions, watching our calculated suicide.
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and no one's even bothered whether i even worked or felt something like happiness, as i lose out on this heart attack.
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i'm collapsing just now, falling without a sound. an orange sunbeam on the rye, the last thing i see in my life.
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and all metaphysical, unmasks itself now. did we have each other enough? did we connect deep enough?
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i'm collapsing, breaking down silently onto the ground. above me, the azure sky, the last thing i see in my life. a swallow makes a little cry as i look up for the last time. there won't be a miracle, there's really nothing more to come.
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i talk like a psychologist but act like an unstable lunatic patient of some mental health hospital in the middle of nowhere.
