February 2010
38 posts
January 2010
72 posts
“I don’t do drugs. I am drugs.”
– Dali
i cry everytime
Take a leaf of paper and draw your mind, Your bourbon brown that can burn my eyes, I lost your presence underneath the bridge. Lock the door, let’s talk it out, Against the wall, hands on my mouth, Could this be it, is it really over now? You wore a white t-shirt and old black shorts, You played your songs and danced your dance, I unwrapped your presents underneath your feet. Nine to eleven...
“They call holidays an option for a reason. I heard you’re coming back to...”
–
