Friday, May 05, 2017
When you wake up from a bad dream in a cold place; with undigested food you ate alone; and you knock on locked doors looking for a familiar face; you meet what seemed to be a heart of stone.
Then you go back trying to recall; the last comfort you fell into; you just knew you dropped the ball; and you reason what seemed to be true.
That things have always been the way they were; you can't get love, life, hope, or care; the way you sent those things out there; or the way they seemed to have played fair.
9knots | 11:32 pm |
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