Репост из: from western woods to beaversdam
who's to know how it feels
when artificial reality crushes with lucid dreams that carry along your unsalvageable eternities of withering memories
with fantom aches, unforgiving and dissipating tantalisingly slow
with silent screams that hold no solace, distorted paths of familiarity you can't withstand
not with bated breath, not with lump in your throat, not with nauseating waves of anxiety turned into falce prophecies
how it feels
to take yourself apart, shedding coat after coat, losing very last strand of tangled and tainted self
seeking clarity and abandoning resurrected fate, whispering broken spells until words sound void of their meaning
who's to tell how it feels
when all battles are lost and the future holds nothing deceiving
when artificial reality crushes with lucid dreams that carry along your unsalvageable eternities of withering memories
with fantom aches, unforgiving and dissipating tantalisingly slow
with silent screams that hold no solace, distorted paths of familiarity you can't withstand
not with bated breath, not with lump in your throat, not with nauseating waves of anxiety turned into falce prophecies
how it feels
to take yourself apart, shedding coat after coat, losing very last strand of tangled and tainted self
seeking clarity and abandoning resurrected fate, whispering broken spells until words sound void of their meaning
who's to tell how it feels
when all battles are lost and the future holds nothing deceiving