Every problem that I've ever had has turned rotten in my mouth.
A stone or a bezoar stuck in my throat.
A heavy dark bird resting solidly on my chest, softly chiding me to accept, accept.
House of life and death,
Security and emptiness.
It's all one and it's all nothing while life seems to promise forever.
That stupid lie we tell ourselves while we're still too young to know.
I don't want you to go.
I don't want you to go.
Please keep me young enough not to know.
I don't want you to go.
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Published by delightedpessimist
I am the delighted pessimist. Purveyor of sadness, happiness, and everything in between. Also cheesy statuses because I never know what else to put here.
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Woolgathering 
We weeped over this. So beautifully said and so much depth. I love you
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