It seems we all get sick,
we all die in some no name hospital with the same colored walls,
and I guess that’s fine,
but I want to swallow, I want to stomach, I want to live.
It’s been a rough while and some days are worse than others,
there’s no proper way to feel, no mirth, no levity, no amazing grace, just a flame on a lake floating away,
I can’t let you lay,
I want you to know, I’m learning patience against my will,
I want you to know, I’ll get by, always barely scraping
with just a hunger, with just a heart apart,
it’s a hell of a thing.
(Source: funcollapse)
