billbozway
What I never go to. Pin stripes, Blue water, Old men smoking cigars. Where most mafia men meet their end. Why would you ever trust a guy with a razor against your neck?
Music, Screaming, coughing, blood filled loogies. What I need to find besides her. That thing that drives me to say what I'm thinking, Just say what you are thinking.
...
tangled up in blues, Bob Dylan, the man the legend. What my hair. My heart strings. That frustration that is.
I've done this?
What pleases the tongue. My gift to her to lean against her sweetness. Not vanilla. That cure all of pleasure.
what drives me, hear me, my sadness, regret, that thing that makes my heart be heard.
Take on, The down fall of the American Dream. What I must do with all of my technology.
The guide of thread through fabric. The fixer of torn beauty. Pain, sickness, and advancement.
writing since 2011 · 9 entries · 9 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Bill showed up.
5longest streak
9days written
4.5entries / week
the words Bill reaches for
drivesheartagainstthinkingguidethreadfabricfixertornbeautypainsicknessadvancementfallamericandream