The Low Lights Betrayed YouPanic arises from the unknown shadows that move in the dim light. It grips the body, freezing the limbs. Breaths remain locked inside the chest. Senses are heightened as fear bloods the mind. Eyes widen, combing every crevice in search of the source. Ominous shapes are formed from nothing. Ears prick up, hearing the smallest of knocks. A gentle tap becomes fear in and of itself. The body is tense. The heart races. Blood pumps. Veins pulse. The throat tightens; swallowing is difficult. The risky exhale dared to be released, permeates the room with anxiety. NothThe Low Lights Betrayed You
Vevendix
| sarah, its what my birth certificate says. it was printed 18 years ago, as of September 20, 2009. most people call me BajujajuHh or even BJ. simply because I have the most ridiculous last name ever. It's icelandic; and wayyyy cooler than yours. I think I want to be a journalist, or maybe even a poet, a cosmetologist would be ok, and culinary might work for me, photography might be my niche, but I have no idea what i should do. because I'm indecisive, what teenage girl isn't? i'm a pretty alright person, I'm very into what i do, fuck you. |
can you make this last, this painless day
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I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, -
and the stars through his soul.
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my life for hire;
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"Van Gogh kept painting himself because he was the only model he had."
Flickr [link]
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my life for hire;
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my life for hire;
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my life for hire;
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the one who lives of hope dies of sorrow.
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my life for hire;
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