The boy with such sad wings should stay off tall buildings and keep away from high wires.

It's a vodka and cigarettes kinda night.

My skin is a map of minor impacts.

There is beauty in defeat when we get back on our feet.

When the wind beats against our hollow bones,

we're staring at different stars in the same night sky.

it's not at all important. it's just the way I am sometimes.

I should pack these bags & go home.

But home is nowhere.

Fists on up, I want the ocean right now.

e v e r y b r e a t h i s a v i c t o r y

Now I find it hard to relate to the most familiar of faces.

Fuck it! How cliché this all sounds.

This was made for the individual but is ruined by the ignorant masses.

Boy, you went and made a sweet wreck of my soul, but I've already forgiven you.