subota, 22.03.2014.

and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north...

we're all born to broken people on their most honest day of living and since that first breath...


we'll need grace that we've never given... I've been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts and....


it's not only when these eyes are closed, these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach, but they hold this ship...


together tossed like leaves in this weather and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north, stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better


but it won't won't, at least I don't believe it will... so I've built a wooden heart inside this iron ship, to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts.


don't let these waves wash away your hopes...this war-ship is sinking and I still believe in anchors pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors...


but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores


so come on and let's wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach...come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever...

...we only have what we remember...


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