Wall Fiction

we're an art group so indie that no one knows us, follow for the hipster cred xoxo

[wallfiction]

[wallfiction]

The Tourist

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Listen/purchase: The Tourist by Wall Fiction

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Nostalgia 2# I never know my dear, How to miss you Your unfelt presence I never know dear, How to write to you About how we never were About how we will always be Because sorrow is the only one who comes out of my pen Yet i crave you the most, Keeping a stash of unsent letters Wrapped around my skin If you dare to touch me, You will feel your presence in every molecule Who had the disgrace of coming together To form such disfigured soul

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I live in a broken house. "Good morning devil This is my faust." I'm tired of returning To the places I'd rather watch burning. Nostalgia is to me What colour is To a man who can't see This heart This sweater This dark (Stark weather) All of this, I've overgrown. I'm not homesick I'm just sick of home.

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"Nostalgia"

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"I turn my skin into brick walls, 

I turn my legs into foundations,  So you have a place where you can fall  As your is filled with degradation  I will fix your broken houses,  I will heal your broken bones  You seek comfort in the damned  In their shaky, tormented hands  You insist of building homes  Out of souls in sinking sand  I will fix your broken houses  I will heal your broken bones, 

If you let me"

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"Nostalgia"

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The Days Who Got Stuck Between My Cracks I can't quite remember, The days before you came, I feel like i was already born With my mouth marked with your name The days before you came, I felt death inside my lungs Putrefaction in my veins Bitter rottenness on my tongue The days before you came, I want them out of my head How I carved my skin with lies So my body could be fed I live assaulted by fear, Of the days after you leave How my head will turn to flames, And my being sting with grief

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Nostalgia

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"Stuck in poverty,  You always were my ecstasy  The emptyness inside your skin  Made me tremble from within 

Fallow bodies,  Fallow ground  I once was loved  But never found"

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Fallow

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Motel Bathroom poem #1 All my books have scars From keeping them in hidden places I've visited too many bars To fill in the empty spaces Baby I'm a wreck And my stare begs To rest my back On your warm legs I had more coffee Than rest This soft eve Won't last I'm tired and hollow And I've snoozed all the alarms Just to lain fallow In your sweet arms

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