You’re full of darkness and noise, and a thousand pretty pictures, completely vivid, but so far away .
The darkness, the noise, they’re closer than any lover. They’re constant.
Those thousand pretty pictures, those vivid images you can’t touch, they’re just pain. They’re a longing for slit wrists and bullets in your head, but you’re going nowhere.
You’re sitting in the dark, killing time, and going nowhere.1 comment
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