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Wounded Birds

from The Misspent Youth by poor walter

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Let me sleep a minute more, it's so cold outside, and my eyelids are like burning coals. I don't mind if the whole world is fucked up and falls apart, if our homes start to burn. The hurricane comes near and it will tear apart our faith and even our names, so let's celebrate our birth. Once, we were wounded birds flying low, but tonight we spread our wings above the clouds. Take your pictures of the good times, and bury them in the ground, so they can't find them in a million years from now. And if in the end nothing remains of us, our better memories will grow up in the yard.

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from The Misspent Youth, released August 16, 2014

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