Quand ça sent le sucre
My hands are shacking, I’m passing out for a bit. Time don’t want to exist anymore in my head. It just left like the rain, but the ground’s still wet.
My head remember what it’s like to be alive, but it don’t want it that way from now. I feel like it’s nothing new to me, I can’t handle reality as I should. I keep freezing on things that not even belong to my small world. Keep screaming and crying for something or someone I don’t even know. Maybe all of those feelings just don’t belong to me, maybe that is to much for the small world of their owner.
Is it just a piece of someone else’s sad cake ? What a gift, it taste poisoned.
Every time I freeze it feel like air tell me that nothing is real. Every time I end up smelling sugar on my skin, as if my body know that it’s time for depressed desert.