crookedinfinity

My soul has not yet been tread upon enough to crush the hope that is placed within like a burning candle in the centre of a warm dinner table I stand surveying the destruction with wide eyes as I receive instructions: you told me to be diligent but I will dream on you told me to be studious you told me to be obedient told me to be opportunistic to be businesslike and tactical and I don't hate you for that I just hate the sensation of falling I just hate the feeling of being an invertebrate a centipede feeling the weight of the sneaker in slow-mo crushing the outer shell like potato chips, like coloured pencils snap an