- It was a mistake the minute you glanced over to the left. Hunched over, navy blue yankee cap pulled far down. It was a mistake, with your stupid fucking purple hair and white nose. It was mistake, going back to the cafe night after night, 20s after 20s for bag after fucking bag.
- It started to creep in slowly. The jumpiness. It comes and goes still. I down 20 blocks in record time. I spoke to the bitch. I smirked and laughed and made jokes.
- It manages to feel like a mistake and at the same time it was the best feeling ever. I feel like shit inside and out all the time now.
- I wanna, pop one, for you, drink one, for you.
- How could you give up on me like that? You're stronger than me, I guess. Bullshit is bullshit but I like to turn a blind eye for the sake of "love".
- Everytime I think about it, there's this expression that has been stuck in my mind. I'd know the look and you'd know the look as well if it ever crossed either of our faces. I've seen it many times and so have you. A mix of bitterness, disappointment and hate, disgust and numbness. I've been trying to catch it, put it down on paper or in words, anything. I'm tired. I think the look is just tiredness.
- With numbness comes zero expectations, with zero expectations pain never comes. Nice. I don't like saying it.
- Where are you now? The prettiest whore in New York. Sitting in front of the mirror. The air smells good and it's snowing outside. Where the fuck are you now?
sep 1 2015 ∞
sep 1 2015 +