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When I lift my skin and smell—nothing.
No rot. No story. Not even the emptiness of salt.
Aug. 11th, 2024
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Aug. 11th, 2024
She speaks; her voice wakes me. I shoot to the bottom among the weeds and see envy, jealousy, hatred
Aug
.
11th
,
2024
10:58 am
these people haven't been lonely a day in their lives
Current Mood:
indifferent
Current Location:
living room
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Page Summary
She speaks; her voice wakes me. I shoot to the bottom among the weeds and see envy, jealousy, hatred
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