feeling fragile like porcelain waiting for the gloom to fade, waiting to tumble into another world a little less dull, waiting to escape this city, waiting for the moon to drag me through the stars and galaxys, waiting for the floor boards to crack, waiting for the sadness to eat itself up, waiting for these walls to fall apart, waiting for the mess to clean itself, waiting ..waiting, waiting. awaiting these endless seconds, waiting for him to blow holes in my brain until i cannot think another thought.

staring at the speck's of dust that come out of the projector at the cinema, being more fascinated at that then what's on the big screen, i'll sit for two hours thinking up story's about other galaxy's

You can never holiday because your always stuck with yourself
and crawling out of this mood is a fucking battle field
you want to explode every time you speak
every word you say & every thought you think
is from a fairytale book which has been perfectly written
inside your head
and pretending is the only thing your good at

secrets are forever