The eyes of my childhood friend haloed by dried blood. Throat shot, and left in a rusted truck bed. White face, empty eyes, wirebrush beard. Memories of being children between the dirt clods and cherries. Black plastic bags on the floor, spread out like pragmatism. Street Fighter in the short hours of an afternoon. Dungeons and Dragons in our teenage adolescence. Landscaping our defects into adults. Becoming strangers who once knew each other very well. Only for one of us to die a senseless death. I'm so sorry.
4:38 p.m. - 2022-04-15
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Grazing Deification - 2022-04-29
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