Track 1
Track 1 growingup stories

sofiavon Creativity, humor, and love.
Autoplay OFF   •   3 years ago
My turning point. When I started to question... everything I thought I was.

Track 1

So tired yet so awake

I sit at the edge of an ellipsis

crimping the charred innards of my tattered soul

to make a masterpiece of gore and internal war

over the years of self loathing

I finally love myself

but getting fucked up feels fuckin perfect

and watching this world unfold anew with each hit

or shot

rocks my mind

unkind but exemplary in it's own fortitude

to prevail my own veils

aside they're cast and fumbled with

as thick smiles seed

and the pace is set for the evening

I can't help but think that leaving

could do me good

but who backs out before the last shot?

who leaves before the deafening toll of midnight?

Cinderella's umbrella of security

and purity

is at jeopardy

and with great haste she wastes away the good looks

for late night fucks

and nicotine

forgetting to clean

her closet of supreme validity on the functioning teen

trying not to be mean, But completely obscene in gestures

with the barbie's manufacturers groping for caspers in the utopian disasters of the girl they forged

many decades back, but lost track of the track that played that summer night

in the moonlight of immaculate humor and love above all the oozing essence that manifested

now tested, for virtual herpes

your cerebellum will tellem the positive credo

that we all know is hooked on the days drift wood with byzantine benzodiazapines to guide her haunted spirit till

the cracks turn to crevasses and prehistoric protons mate with electrons

in the vat that is abrewing to plot the lies

watch the skies fade to grey as it may be about time for the ecliptic rhymes to find reconciliation

in the bladed grains of mortality and sigh for being high in this lowered juncture of subsisting future

buys you time to mull over such a daydream

as your last breath

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