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


theres something eerie about watching our rocks turn to sand with my pale feet stuck into the salty water. there's something not quite right in remembering you driving me here in a chevy corsica with broken mirrors to lean over and kiss me while you thought no one was looking and making me pretend we werent together.

i saw something similar today. a chubby girl and a short man with a uniform near the dock holding hands and her constantly pulling at the edges of her shirt. i wonder if she was nervous, i wonder if she'd seen me, if she'd have known why i was so curious.

living with harper is nice. when i feel sad i bake you cakes and wash your clothes. i make the bed and watch reruns of talk shows. i call you on the phone but you dont feel like talking and you have to get back to work. my stomach hurts and i hold scissors to my skin and i make ugly jagged crosses that you dont even comment on anymore.

i imagine that he's living nicely far away from here. i imagine they're in bed right now and he's saying nicer things to her than he ever said to me. she makes the best apple pies in the county and he can build houses like no bodies business. i'm getting real old waiting for you to decide that you miss me.

d-land