“I don’t know how to handle someone like you,” she said,
“with those green eyes and brown work boots. Or that strange way you form your words
and side effects like I’m hanging on to every one.”
Then she shot herself.
He sang someone else’s song in a parking lot of a 7-Eleven
at midnight-o-three
“but she didn’t feel a thing
and I’m not sure if I do anymore either.”
Two more sips of that bitter drink before driving away to nowhere.
Sunsets sell like movie tickets
and we exchange estrogen for testosterone
because it’s better when you’re angry.
“You were never really beautiful, just sort of pretty” were his last words
and these are mine.
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Comments
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Genius ain't anything more than elegant common sense.
AWESOME AWESOME!
....
AWESOME!!!!!!!
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with your feet in the air and your head on the ground... where is my mind?
its beautiful! T3T
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The future starts today.
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Fuuck, where's my camera? AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!
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