Sunday, February 22, 2015

Waiting For Angels

Tonight, a part of me never left NYC. I've seen enough of faces for the day. Keeping my head up, I walked down its streets and avenues, I admired the snowstorm illuminated by the neon lights. Reminds me of those cold faces masked by their beautiful clothes. I enjoy the sting as drop by drop, snow hit my face.Physical pain never felt sweeter. It shows that I'm just human. Just another human. Human; A conscious mass that would be no different than the ground after introduced to a speeding car. I crave unconsciousness. Let everything slip into oblivion. All of life. Its ugliness. Its pains. Its beauty. Its imperfectly perfect beauty. I've heard that angels are beautiful. Still waiting to crash; let me say hello to those divine beauties.

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