jessewestend

I feel like the sadness welling up within me is the most beautiful thing in the world, the dreams and the flashes of memories; the melted faces and the blended words... all the tears and harshness and all the soft Dewey kisses... all the love I could punch into a wall is slicing its way out of my chest from the ribs out. From inside of me the bright burning sun of a life unraveled comes shooting through outstretched finger tips... and into the eyes of the morning rushers on the red line, commuting to work in the freezing cold rubbing together lonely hands wishing someone cared that their finger bones felt like razors slicing through skin that hasn't felt a foreign touch in so long.. . .