mother, don’t you know?
the boy with the golden
irises doesn’t smile anymore.
he’s packed, and there’s something
heavy in the bags he carries
underneath those eyes.
there’s no such thing as darkness
in the city of angels.
there’s no fear in death when
you welcome it.
perhaps the sun will thaw
him, perhaps the cold has
nothing to do with why he’s
so numb.
you can’t run away from what’s within // a.s.m
Silenticel 