I woke up with rust
in my throat, dry as a furnace
in the static of silent
winter. My eyes are heavy, too, and
I would like just one day
where I don’t have to care.
I would like just one day
where I am not bargaining
with myself, bargaining
with caricatures that reside
in my mouth,…
(Source: cordeliagablewrites)
18 Jun 2012
cordeliagablewrites (VIA poeticallyprofound)
56 notes