I step over the homemade traps of old haunts. I stalk a blonde girl with wellspring eyes. I strip down to scars. I stand naked among my excoriation. I share a long and knowing look with the lynching leader.
I scrape my knees against my own expectations again. A thousand criss-crossing welts are living and pale proof that I don't learn very quickly. If ever.
I read a slow infinity of quotes from a stock market ticker. They don't make any sense to me.
10:40 p.m. - 2015-04-13
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
As-I-know-it
Nicim
Breathe-Salt
Swordfern
Star-Brite
Swallowthkey
ATwoWayDream
HumHum
Secret-motel
AndWeBreathe
MovingSands
WeAteTheSea