wars | Grief, They Named It | A Hundred Shivers ~ [∄] [Chapter Four]
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I sat up in Stockholm, staring at the ceiling
Hoping the lights would deflect this seething
Rage at myself and how adrift I felt
The splintering stress; we never dial for help
I saw the wreckage in her eyes
It told me how much we’d left behind us
And where will we find ourselves now
What have we got to lose anyway
I’m finding, away
I’d never seen a stare so stark
And in the dark I tortured my head in half
And drank in the hell and the dust and decay
We sang to our selves we would never be the same
We stole each other’s words until we both were breathless
My head whispered the worst, we’re all taught to be reckless
I thought