Every spring that broken spot comes up and it should be shining but its raining and I should be smiling but I’m not because my insides push up daisies like a thing buried. These are the cold wet nights when the living heartbroken young stumble around booze ridden and well fucked feeding on distractions with nowhere to go and no one to be except
(
Read more... )
Comments 3
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment