Theres the high road and the low road and one’s covered in grit and sea glass shards. Separate from those is the bad road which leads through the valley and you can’t get through without the proper lantern.
Staring at the flat ceiling above me and the white paint that covers it. I wish it dripped or melted even if I was strangled and asphyxiated by it but it’s dry, its constant. Though nothing lasts forever, it’ll chip someday.
She only ever wore an apron. One of the perks of never leaving one’s house is that you can walk around naked all day every day, except when making bacon, we wouldn’t want any oil popping up and scarring those beautiful breasts, so she wore an apron.
bubbly bubbly bubbly rose and it makes her smile like the couple who bumps against the wall above me and I assume they’re smiling because they can please each other but maybe its just
fueling the passion
pushing the boundaries