"In every man's memories there are such things as he will reveal not to everyone, but perhaps only to friends. There are also such as he will reveal not even to friends, but only to himself, and that in secret. Then, finally, there are such as a man is afraid to reveal even to himself..."
— Anna Akhmatova (via perfect)
hallelujah // jeff buckley
and i’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
and love is not a victory march
it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah
It’s 3 AM when realize you’ve lost hours locked inside your own head, the secret gears and cogs linking with subtle clicks to pull on levers and lift the veil on the slinking truths you hide from everyone, most of all yourself. It’s 3 AM when you realize you’ve done nothing of import all night but tip a bucket of chum into the pit for the beasts.
There’s a box inside me, maybe I’ve told you about it. Polished ghostwood and beveled edges, triple-locked and bound in twine. I hide it behind the parts of me I think can keep it obscured. Ribs and shame and bombast and evasive questioning. You’re picking at the binds, fraying the knot and…