wolves play a different game altogether

velvet skies torn down and replaced with black lace, contaminated innocence disguised in white dresses; as pure as the driven mud. dark thoughts sit on the edge of everyday reason, inching us slowly towards the perimeter of our thoughts, towards those last resorts we once thought would never be necessary. the star studded skies cradled in their glory are now simply millions of reminders, brought home by the fact that once upon a time you wished you could be were you are now. and the crushing realisation that childhood dreams are one thing, and reality is suprisingly another. well the dust and dirt tastes almost as bad as what you think of me now, the trail i left behind, something for you to see each day and feel the agonising heat of each word i spat at you. the words that burned into your skin, sinking through your flesh and mixing in with the blood that circles your precious little heart.