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Don't you chirp at me. Eyes closed, the sun stabs her in the mouth. The taste of fear fills her face as everything come back; she vomits a good while, memories stirring and playing themselves in the tune of a forgotten sea (cause times are changing and that's just what they do). spit. trust. trust. spit. Waves crashing against a wall of recollection in a way that is meant to be kept for the punitive and the exiled. The train blares outside somewhere fuzzy focus dissipates quickly and this slowly comprising function of clarity comes to a screeching halt as it begins to pour in. In some state of bewildered entitlement
0
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 2:40 AM UTC
put your pillow over my face
Don't you chirp at me. Eyes closed, the sun stabs her in the mouth. The taste of fear fills her face as everything come back; she vomits a good while, memories stirring and playing themselves in the tune of a forgotten sea (cause times are changing and that's just what they do). spit. trust. trust. spit. Waves crashing against a wall of recollection in a way that is meant to be kept for the punitive and the exiled. The train blares outside somewhere fuzzy focus dissipates quickly and this slowly comprising function of clarity comes to a screeching halt as it begins to pour in. In some state of bewildered entitlement
angelamarypope
Written by
32/F/American
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 2:40 AM UTC
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