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


he punched the windshield and started crying, i was kneeling next to the trunk with my stomach a cut up mess from sliding over a fence with barbed wire. he came over and put his hands on my sholders and asked me if i had the keys to his apartment. i shoved my hands into my pockets and frowned. i sifted through the backseat ashtray looking for the key finding bits of cigarettes stuck in my rings later. i was wearing a dress with a broken strap, he was wearing a suit with a gun in the breast pocket. when i felt scared of what we were about to do, i ran my hands over his chest and felt the outline of bullets and metal. my stomach hurts. i cant tell him why because i know he'll be mad. the car door slams and i follow a path of petals to his front door and find his mother standing with her arms crossed. i tell her we're out and i almost believe it.
d-land