crawl in and pull the shadows close.
i listen to the perfect echoes,
the thunder of your blood and bones;
it’s here i find the secrets
that keep storms away.
so strange how words can mean and not mean. if i mention i am drinking lemonade it creates an atmosphere, if i say i am drinking coffee another. it’s almost as if you could live two separate lives based on tiny things such as what shampoo you use, what you drink first thing in the morning, whether or not you like the colour blue.