paullyons
I was concerned for her safety, watching as she precariously leaned over the windowsill of her life. yes, its true she was just trying to get a better view but still, the glass in her needle showed the means by which she did were pulling her down to the gravel below.
He made me an offer as I stood there. "Look you can either go home or come with me." Him and I both knew that home was not an option anymore, and so what appeared to be an offer was nothing more than instruction in disguise.
She used silence like an umbrella, sitting there, eating her overcooked scrambled eggs, she refused to talk about it, hoping this would shield her from the rain.
Poison is their way of life, because they walk in the lie, they know no food but poison, they know no life but death. As poison is to food, so is death to life