speechless
two is not enough when you're playing for an audience of one. thick fog rolls in, across the golden gate. when i spot a black skirt straddling the bar like it's a quarter a ride. and I said "ma'am how was your day? keep your eyes on my face. I'll help you, if you let me."
Mr.Staton used to grow "trees." Everybody knows that he really grew weed. Well, atleast I knew. Why else would he have a constant set of chink eyes? Why else would he be 300 pounds? 50 years of the munchies can do that to a guy, ya know?
he wanted to be an astronaut. it was a lofty achievement. day in and day out, he was mocked all of his life. but when he stuck our flag into that unimaginable surface he knew his dreams had been fulfilled.
Rustling inbetween dreams was my addiction. A nocturnal thought of what I hhonestly long for every hour of everyday for the rest of my life. Like autumn leaves on a crisp cool day. forever rustling, forever troubling.
amongst the truth you plant your seed of evil. you're a liar on the thrown of a queen. your heart it bleeds and it bleeds. but your body shows no sign of abuse.
Where would I be? Without you. Without this bed. Without this house. Without this air that I breathe. This water that I drink.