and you know you can't survive by Netoma, literature
Literature
and you know you can't survive
We smoked cigarettes and aimed playing cards at our joints.
Just another Thursday night in Nowhere.
If you hit a heart, it was double points.
But the points don't matter when you share ...
...everything.
My eyes sting. In a way like when your parents sit you down and tell you that your grandmother died.
Or when that bitch of a woman you wish you could be, has finally exceeded you in way too many ways for you to ever win or ever hope to.
The pain, the lonely...
It's right beneath my skin. If anyone were to look me in the eyes or watch how I can't stop picking at my fingernails they would see.
They would see if they didn't explain away the scars. They would see, not me, but this layer of sharp, acidic and mangled yesterday joy.
I sleep and I sleep disturbed, but I make up for it by sleeping a lot.
The days just wisp into your cigarett
I'm sorry that you're so painful to me. I'm sorry I let you do it. I'm sorry that you're so caught up in yourself that you ignore how I feel and I'm sorry that I let you think that's okay. I'm sorry that I love you in a blind kind of way.
I'm sorry that I slept and loved someone else while my muscles still ached for your muscles (to both of you).
But really... I owe the biggest apology to her. And I hope you know that. Even with the things she did against you and the things she hadn't yet, but wanted to. I've done the greatest injustice to you, but ...
I'm sorry she didn't listen to me and I'm sorry that she's a liar.
I'm sorry that you'