tell me about the time when the Earth
was softer, when the roundness didn’t
cut people open and leave them
bleeding into the cracks of
their bathroom tiles.
tell me the names of all the
fallen angels because
I think I met one the other day.
He’s sleeping next to me now. There are wings
scratched down either side of my spine.
I think he wants them back. He
still dreams of flying.
do you think you can do something
about the lonely souls?
There’s a lot of us.
And what about the hurt? Or
is this all part of something bigger,
a lesson to be learnt?
are you there?
A.Y // a midnight conversation (via 2wentysixletters)