The Grey.
If the words you spoke appeared on your skin, would you take more care with how you use them?
We forget the worse weapon of all can be our tongues.
Our emotions sway against the chests of our lovers.
The promises crumble before they reach the ear lobe.
Rehearsed sentences decay on the edge of our teeth.
Laughter planned three hundred and sixty days in advance.
Every year, unknowingly, we pass the anniversary of our future death.
And time leaves before you do,
And tomorrow is never until the eyelids rise.
We are The Grey.
Frozen Vanity xox
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