

A storyRetrospectA story
She sparked a joint in the dark and sighed a cloud of smoke into the cool fall air. Climbing the crumbling cement slabs to their sacred "place", she stumbled over thoughts of his leaving. She couldn't bear the knot in her heart that somehow gripped her throat. They had lived fast and hard for months, fucking and fighting and making up with soft kisses and pleading promises to change everything. She bitterly flicked ashes onto the coarse foundation and knelt beside the place where they had carved their epitaphs into stone. She traced the jagged letters with a cold callused finger and shivered. The night air surrounded h


To...To a Boy Named Daniel, Who Never Knew ThisTo...
I crave your mouth on mine Pressing defiantly down on me In the dark In the dark I go insane Forgetting your face and finding your body with delicate fingers And I will blame the music and the streetlight outside your window For showing me the way your eyes close And your lips part When I find places on your skin that make you shiver I miss your hand finding mine
Interlocking and combining Under covers Under covers I stay warm Pressed against your chest where its safe And I will blame the cold nig
earn your grave
write
--
Tonight as I ate my pork and frustration,
I could have sworn
that I'm not the only one
of the two of us
who hates how it is.
[link]
but thank you
--
film is art.
television is furniture.
scoobidoobidoo
oh miss(sis)
--
film is art.
television is furniture.
--
film is art.
television is furniture.
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