yo, that's wack if i'm not the baddest


profile * old * mail * fucking sign it* or how about a nice note? you go forward / i'll go backwards


youre magnetic and all my flaws are metal and they surge through my skin with only pinheads holding them to my flesh. he told the story like he was ancient only instead of weathered hands, his smelled like semen and pot. he would leave me drunk in the backseat and walk twelve miles home. i would laugh and say cruel things with glowing eyes from the backseat. i would say he was stupid, i would say he was ugly and that he didnt mean anything to anyone. i didnt remember how cold it was that night until tonight when i fell asleep on the way home from portland with harper whispering along to awful radio songs and me nodding in and out of sleep with you floating around the car. things would have been different if i were someone else.
d-land