Making half-squinted eyes at the aluminium-sided dive bar. The smell of bleach and stale whisky. Memories from lifetimes ago swept into the corners. Blue-orange moons left on the counter warn others that there is nothing to find. Slow-dancing with the shadows behind a creaking jukebox. On the other side of town, burying oneself alive with shame. A tiny mouth that protects only itself. Dissolving into the incandescent skies over Tahoe. The shadows that cling like rot, on a moonless night. Whispering id-flavored lies for the rest of a tainted life. Everything and body is broken, and we don't even realize how or when we broke it.
1:42 p.m. - 2021-08-27
Recent entries:
Still Sadly, The Process - 2021-09-17
As An Easy Gallop Upwards - 2021-07-10
A Confluence of Names - 2021-09-10
Evaporation of Direction - 2021-09-10
Delta Go-Around - 2021-09-03
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