I read my last letter to you again today. I could almost – almost – feel the love I had once for you. Then I saw the pain and anguish. I saw pieces of myself lying in puddles of blood, screaming your name.
Fuck. I’m stoned.
I read my last letter to you again today. I could almost – almost – feel the love I had once for you. Then I saw the pain and anguish. I saw pieces of myself lying in puddles of blood, screaming your name.
Fuck. I’m stoned.
I own nothing.
Not even myself. We are all borrowed sets of particles that have existed in the universe since always, to infinity.
