i have to go. i need to flee. i need to know that there is more to this than just this. this wasnt even a pretty place when i first got here. and now. i am just as ugly as all of the other ducks. i just wish i was just as drunk.
i wish i was lost. at least i would have an excuse for being here.
i want to fall in love with a city, i want to meet the reason for dying. there is nothing when i have rocks in my veins, habits to die and no winds to pick up the baskets i put the trash in.
trials. trials. and more. this isnt even the most interesting thing about this fright.
i need something to breath.
- a. marie
- chasing an inevitable end with no distinct date. what do we really know.
No comments:
Post a Comment