When your thoughts turn again to the grey space between anger and apathy. The foundation you have built between your eyelids to hold them open begins to crumble. Collapse. Never enough
Month: December 2017
Cloud my eyes Pull the sickness of my sight from me. So the lust of companionship is not wasted on all I see. Flay my fingertips, so I only touch What I really need, rather than what I want.