Rusty pipes in the walls of my house pump loneliness through the fixtures. There are dark stains on the driveway that were there long before I was. I entomb a little piece of my life a day at a time. Inside my gilded cage with rotting beams and cracked concrete. The rain outside is greasy and smells of turpentine. I'm a poor fit for capitalism.
11:57 a.m. - 2016-10-31
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