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:iconbrain-tree: More from brain-tree


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Submitted on
May 15, 2013
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Torn to pieces Chevrolet
don't be sorry if I stay awake
Grandpa got pneumonia again

wrap my partner in a blanket
she's been worried we might lose the war
breakfast on the floor
oatmeal, feathers of a newborn bird
she's still beneath the sea - her nights are long
but waking, this was change - she smiled
molten to the touch
the day in flames - the harvest for her lungs
her blood was flowing - her hair was rivers, now

after breakfast we both walked outside
drowned our risen hands in lakes of earth
melting morning cigarettes into our mouths
It's common for us to curl up in hopelessness and regret when we discover that our hearts don't feel the sun rise anymore. But that won't keep us safe, we'd never hope to find a shred of solace in a whole world of untethered remorse. There is more solace to be found in the actions of our hands, through both the changes that we carve in the earth and the sacrifices that we make for the people we love.
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:iconraffskaztic:
this is indeed quite fucking lovely.
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:iconbrain-tree:
brain-tree May 18, 2013   General Artist
Thank you friend. I've never listened to the Mountain Goats, but the lyrics to that song are really great.
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:iconraffskaztic:
makes me think of New Chevrolet in Flames, by the Mountain Goats.
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:iconv-espertine:
this is so fucking lovely.
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:iconbrain-tree:
brain-tree May 16, 2013   General Artist
Thank you friend, that means an awful lot
I put more work into this one than I usually do
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