Dreaming of aching. Her fingernails perfectly cheapened with itty-bitty skulls and dull rhinestones. Haunting beauty shaved into the side of her head. She never learned how to play the guitar. And yet, she does. And sings to an audience of echoes. Framed by the bleaching light of a nuclear sunset. The music settles in the recesses of my sleeping soul. I awake with a regret hangover that lasts the rest of my life.
12:21 a.m. - 2019-11-21
Recent entries:
Thanking the Pandemonium - 2020-11-26
Simplicity of Sometimes - 2020-11-25
Bubblebeams - 2020-11-18
Red Blue Green Purple - 2020-11-11
Too Young to Descend - 2020-11-11
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
Bridgecity
Babyhead
Murder
Blubbles
Frostopia
HumHum
Secret-motel
ATwoWayDream