OrianeMiyashiro

Chasing fire works, fire flies, these fucking lies through urban sprawl and graffiti scrawl, fingers locked, heart thumping in my throat like the bile I can't choke down. It tastes like Vaseline and ashes, a mouthful of proof of my cystic demise. The clumsy stumble roar, beasts with cherry-flavored foam leaking through their teeth, and how much more skin can be chewed from my neck? Skyscraper mazes and the pain-and-memory hazes I live and breathe like it'd literally kill me to let it go. Let it go. Time slips and slides, ice and lies, love-dipped fallacies that hide chrome and Vodka-bottle teeth. Survive for the fig