honestytonic
thin line at the bottom of the page I scribble in a hurried messy jumble "here" i shove the paper at him "i hope this is what you wanted"
run hide do what you must dont let yourself be seen.
crisp. donning coats. sweat under our itching sweaters. awkward family gatherings. who are these people even? i just want to shut myself in my room. stifling suffocating too much. at least they change. people change too often not as regular as the seasons.