IceGalaxy

To be human is a complex web of 

emotion, of 

trial and error, of 

experience without knowing what lies ahead 

but still turning one's face towards the sun, accepting 

if life is but a dream for the dead

may you visit us during autumn, the eldest of the seasons

letting your fragile bones be exposed to the crisp air of october

letting your fingertips run over the bars of the cemetery gates

burn the polaroids you took this summer with the 

first lighter you ever bought, back when you were twelve

and needed to feel something that wasn't packaged, artificial

ill call you when the party's over

walking home with tears dripping

my shoes dangling from my hand-

parallel to the ground

possibly a bruise on my heart

possibly a scar over my lips