Thursday, March 5, 2009
Let me stop the breaking of me, of my hide; the establishment...whilst my soul within, coming to dust; dying absolutely, yet this happening I have to pretend peace.
I shall pretend. I have to.
~
Of fcrnoa:
As if you held in your hand a smoking gun and on the floor lay the one you said you loved.
I love you anyway.
12:52 AM