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Description
Lavender and ocean. It brings about a certain buzzing; a certain bittersweetness. Irony, because it holds neither of these qualities. Happiness, because it's been proven that joy can come in bottle form.

Compare and reflect, a pale image, a bright glowing of imaginary feathers. Falling everywhere like snowflakes, landing perfectly on water and being carried in until a wave crashes down on it. Swallowing it whole, sinking fast into nowhere.

It's suitable that they should wash up on your back, weaving together until they become two magnificent extensions of your being. So suitable that you should use beauty to escape, when that's what brought you here in the first place. A certain irony; a certain bittersweetness, I still taste it faintly on my tongue. The salty-smoothness. Like skin freshly soaked in water, like the itch of waterfalls on my bare shoulder.

Perfect lovers under the cover of night mean nothing by the light of day. And us the same. You stretched far above with the wings I had imagined for you. And left me here drowning. Replacing and wrecking your imagine in my mind with another joy.

A love that doesn't leave me. I've found everything I'll ever need in an empty bottle. After all, isn't dying just another word for waiting?

Description
Lavender and ocean. It brings about a certain buzzing; a certain bittersweetness. Irony, because it holds neither of these qualities. Happiness, because it's been proven that joy can come in bottle form.

Compare and reflect, a pale image, a bright glowing of imaginary feathers. Falling everywhere like snowflakes, landing perfectly on water and being carried in until a wave crashes down on it. Swallowing it whole, sinking fast into nowhere.

It's suitable that they should wash up on your back, weaving together until they become two magnificent extensions of your being. So suitable that you should use beauty to escape, when that's what brought you here in the first place. A certain irony; a certain bittersweetness, I still taste it faintly on my tongue. The salty-smoothness. Like skin freshly soaked in water, like the itch of waterfalls on my bare shoulder.

Perfect lovers under the cover of night mean nothing by the light of day. And us the same. You stretched far above with the wings I had imagined for you. And left me here drowning. Replacing and wrecking your imagine in my mind with another joy.

A love that doesn't leave me. I've found everything I'll ever need in an empty bottle. After all, isn't dying just another word for waiting?