raltvater
I haven't done this in a long time. But you're still here for me, still ready to hear me out. There's a lot going on these days and I'm so happy to feel your warmth against my cheek, your stability against my life. It's good to be back. It's good to move with you again. It's good to be anything at all anymore. I love you.
I sit in the middle of my rag-rug raft, drifting in the valleys of clothes mountains. I can still hear my music shining on the horizon.
I'm too tired for this. I can't keep up tonight. There's really nothing to do, except listen to my suitemates hanging out with people. Taking a Baileys break was a terrible idea.
hematoma hematoma hematoma.
I shouldn't like to say it but I do
I can't hold back on playing, so
I continue to make bad choices.
hematoma.
My knee hit the ground with more force I thought was possible. As I lay panting in the wet grass, everyone protecting the box cheered. They could not feel this.
Side by side, we run. I yell out to him, "Cover me!" He doesn't hear. I slipped and fell, gashing my hand, but still trying to combat them. They closed in on me. I fired once, twice, and as my hand closed around the trigger for a third time, I felt something sink into my shoulder.
I used to be able to reach the bottom of the pool. But ten years later, I'm too out of shape. I can't even get water in my ears without my body revolting.
writing since 1969 · 57 entries · 54 days shown up
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