i've come to the realisation that song speak better for me

this is not a song but idk

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Iron

2nd post of the day

2 unrelated things

darling stop confusing me
with your wishful thinking
hopeful enbraces
don't you understand?
i have to go through this
i belong to here where
no-one cares and no-one loves
no light no air to live in
a place called hate
the city of fear

i play dead
it stops the hurting
i play dead
and hurting stops

it's sometimes just like sleeping
curling up inside my private tortures
i nestle into pain
hug suffering
caress every ache

i play dead
it stops the hurting