livingdeaddoll84

From blood and bone and dust, I came crashing into the dark with splinters of glass. Feathered wings inky black and twisted in the mist. There are no people, you belong to the leap days that never happened. Of gunshots muffled by city blocks, bones that crack, an awkward kind of life. Shards of stars litter the way, gently glowing so you can find the day, again. So you can pull yourself under the downpour, and relax in the rain while it washes away the ink on your wings, until you can dry them out in the light of day. No more plain colours. They’re opal. Iridescent. Kaleidoscopic. You’re on fire cooled by ice, light and dark mixed